Chapter 7 - THE TUNNEL BENEATH THE CARRIAGE BARN
Agent Ruiz wanted me to remain in the house.
I refused.
“The key came from my father. The vault may contain documents stolen under my identity.”
“It may also be exactly where Ray wants you to go.”
“Then don’t let me go alone.”
She studied me for a long moment, then signaled Bennett.
Evelyn joined us. Thomas tried, but Ruiz ordered him to stay and receive medical attention for his injured ribs.
The entrance to the old tunnel was inside the carriage barn, beneath a rubber mat in what had once been a horse stall. My father showed it to me when I was ten. Back then, the narrow brick corridor had felt like part of a castle.
Now the air smelled of damp stone and oil.
Bennett went first with a flashlight and his weapon drawn. Ruiz stayed behind me. Evelyn moved silently at my side.
The tunnel sloped downward for twenty yards before branching.
The left corridor led toward the main house.
The right led beneath the guesthouse.
Straight ahead, where a wall should have been, a steel door stood open.
Fresh scrape marks shone around the lock.
“Northstar?” I whispered.
Evelyn nodded.
The room beyond was larger than I expected, with poured concrete walls and metal shelving. Battery-powered lights glowed overhead. A small dehumidifier hummed in the corner.
Most of the shelves were empty.
Someone had cleared them recently.
One cardboard archive box remained on the floor, its lid crushed beneath a muddy shoe print.
Agent Bennett photographed the room before touching anything.
I crouched beside the box.
Inside were old board minutes, property surveys, and correspondence between my father and Thomas. The final folder contained copies of emails from Ray to several Parker Industrial executives.
Delay Henry’s access to internal audit.
Redirect Claire correspondence to family office.
Confirm Voss can manage amendment language.
The emails were damning, but not complete. Every thread omitted the original sender of the instructions. Ray’s replies began with phrases such as Understood and We’ll proceed.
Someone above him was giving orders.
Evelyn examined the empty shelves.
“Your father said the vault contained three sealed evidence trunks.”
“They’re gone,” Ruiz said.
A metallic sound echoed from the tunnel.
Bennett raised one hand for silence.
Footsteps.
Slow, dragging steps approached from the left corridor.
Ruiz moved me behind her.
A figure appeared in the beam of Bennett’s flashlight.
Diane.
Her tight smile was gone. Her hair had come loose, and dirt streaked one sleeve of her cream-colored jacket. She held both hands where the agents could see them.
“Don’t shoot.”
“Stop there,” Bennett ordered.
She stopped.
I stared at her.
“You left.”
“I tried.”
“Who was driving?”
Her gaze moved to Evelyn.
“I don’t know his name.”
“You got into a stranger’s car?”
“He works for Ray.”
“That narrows it down.”
Diane’s mouth trembled. She pressed her lips together until it stopped.
“He drove me to the east gate and told me to wait. Then another car came. I realized they weren’t taking me somewhere safe.”
“Who is they?”
“I don’t know.”
Evelyn made a quiet sound of disbelief.
Diane looked at me.
“I know what you think of me.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I did not.”
“Your note was attached to my passport.”
“I gave Ray the file because he said your father needed it for estate planning.”
“My father was alive.”
“He was sick.”
“He died in a car crash.”
Her eyes dropped.
There it was.
A hesitation too heavy to ignore.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Diane looked down the dark branch leading toward the guesthouse.
“I heard Ray arguing with someone the night Henry died.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Who?”
“I never saw him.”
“What did they say?”
“Ray said your father had moved the originals. The other man said it didn’t matter because they had Claire.”
The tunnel seemed to narrow around me.
“What does that mean?”
“I thought it meant they could blame you for the transfers.”
“You thought?”
Diane’s eyes filled, but no tears fell.
“I found a photograph in Ray’s safe this morning. That’s why I agreed to bring you here. That’s why I needed you to sign.”
“You tried to steal my inheritance because of a photograph?”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
She reached slowly into her jacket.
Agent Bennett ordered her to stop.
“It’s only a picture.”
Ruiz removed it for her.
The photograph showed me leaving my office in Philadelphia three weeks earlier.
A black circle had been drawn around my head.
On the back were two handwritten lines.
May you like
If she signs, close the file.
If she refuses, use the accident protocol.
