Chapter 6 - THE SONG IN THE WALL
The lullaby had no official title. Evelyn’s father had written it for her when she was a child, a slow melody built on six notes that rose and fell like breathing. Richard remembered Evelyn playing it on the piano in the old lake house her family had owned before her parents died. She had taught it to Blair on rainy afternoons.
The lake house had been sold five years earlier.
Or so Richard thought.
His attorney discovered the property had never actually been transferred. Evelyn had moved ownership into a private trust registered under Blair’s name.
By noon, Richard, Detective Keene, and two officers were driving north.
The lake house stood three hours outside the city on a narrow shoreline surrounded by pines. It looked abandoned from the road, but the grass had been cut recently.
Someone had been there.
Keene noticed tire marks near the garage.
They entered with weapons drawn.
The interior smelled of cedar and cold stone. Dust covered most surfaces, except one path across the living room floor leading to the old piano.
Richard approached it.
The keys were yellowed.
Above the keyboard hung a framed photograph of Evelyn at sixteen, laughing beside her father.
On the back of the frame someone had written six numbers.
5-1-3-6-2-4.
Richard played the six notes of the lullaby in that order.
Nothing happened.
Then Blair’s words returned to him: The real key wasn’t metal.
He examined the piano. Beneath the keyboard was a row of decorative wooden panels. One panel had tiny scratches near its edge.
Richard pressed it.
A hidden compartment clicked open.
Inside sat a small digital recorder and a flash drive.
Keene photographed both before removing them.
The recorder contained a final message from Evelyn.
Richard listened alone in the kitchen.
Her voice filled the room.
“If you found this, you listened. I’m glad.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“I don’t know how much time I have. Claire and Victor know I discovered the foundation theft. But there’s more. Victor has been using Landry Foundation medical grants to purchase restricted drugs through a network of clinics. Claire helped him access records and identify patients whose deaths could be disguised as natural causes.”
Richard felt sick.
“I think I was their test. Or maybe their problem.”
She paused in the recording.
“If anything happens to me, the flash drive has names, invoices, and copies of messages. I sent the originals to a lawyer in Boston. But there is one thing I didn’t send.”
Her voice softened.
“Richard, Blair saw Claire prepare the medication. I tried to convince myself she misunderstood. Then Claire threatened her.”
Richard’s throat closed.
“I know you love Blair. But you work as if love is something you can schedule around. If I’m dead, she needs you present, not protected by assistants, schools, security, and money.”
He covered his mouth with one hand.
Evelyn continued.
“I was angry with you for a long time. I’m not anymore. I just need you to become the father she thinks you already are.”
The recording ended.
Richard remained in the chair long after the room went silent.
Keene eventually entered.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“That’s reasonable.”
Richard handed him the recorder.
The flash drive was encrypted, but federal analysts cracked it within hours. The files revealed a financial network far larger than anyone expected. Victor had diverted more than thirty-two million dollars from charitable medical programs. Several clinics under his control had purchased drugs through forged research authorizations.
Claire’s role was documented in emails.
She had provided hospital-record access, helped forge approvals, and used social connections to suppress internal questions.
Most damning was a message Victor sent her two days before Evelyn died:
If E goes to police, we lose everything. Handle her before Friday.
Claire replied:
I know what she reacts to.
Richard read the message twice, then looked away.
Keene said, “That’s strong evidence.”
“Strong enough?”
“Along with toxicology, Blair’s statement, the recordings, and the supplies in Claire’s closet? Very strong.”
“Where is she?”
“We’re looking.”
The answer did not satisfy him.
Late that evening, Richard called Elise to check on Blair.
No answer.
He called again.
Still nothing.
His stomach dropped.
He called home security.
A guard answered breathlessly. “Mr. Landry, we have a situation.”
“What situation?”
“The east camera went out ten minutes ago.”
“Where’s Blair?”
“With your sister. We’re checking the property.”
Richard stood so fast his chair fell backward.
Keene was already moving.
They reached the estate in thirty-five minutes.
Police vehicles lined the driveway.
Elise was in the foyer, shaken but unharmed.
“Where is Blair?” Richard demanded.
Elise pointed upstairs. “Locked in the safe room. She’s okay.”
Richard ran.
Blair opened the reinforced door when she heard his voice. She fell into his arms.
“What happened?”
“A woman came to the window.”
Richard froze.
“What woman?”
“Claire.”
Keene entered behind him.
“Did she get inside?”
Blair shook her head. “She told me to come outside because Daddy was hurt.”
Richard held her tighter.
“She lied.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Blair looked at him with tear-filled eyes.
“Because you promised you’d call me yourself if you ever got hurt.”
Richard remembered saying exactly that two nights earlier.
A small promise.
One he had kept.
And because he had kept it, Blair had not opened the door.
Outside, officers found footprints leading to the woods and tire tracks near the service road.
Claire had returned.
Not for money.
Not for documents.
May you like
For Blair.
The open ending of Evelyn’s warning was closing around them, and Richard knew Claire would try again unless they found her first.
