Chapter 11 - The Music Box
Claire was halfway to the door before I caught her arm.
"Police first."
"That's my son."
"Exactly."
The detective was already calling the preschool.
Claire ripped her arm free and paced three steps, then three back.
"Answer. Answer. Answer."
The detective held up one hand.
"They have him. He is inside. Doors locked. Officers are en route."
Claire bent forward with both palms on her knees.
I put a hand on her back.
She shrugged it off.
Fair.
We reached the preschool behind two squad cars.
Noah ran out of the director's office and hit Claire at the waist.
She dropped to the floor with him.
"Did anybody talk to you?"
"No."
"Did anybody take you outside?"
He shook his head.
The director brought up security video.
Samuel had not been there.
A man in a baseball cap had photographed the playground from across the street, then left almost an hour earlier.
The threat had used an old image.
Martin arrived and looked at the timestamp.
"This was sent when police entered Samuel's house."
I stared at the photo.
"He wanted us to leave."
Claire looked up.
"Leave what?"
My phone chimed.
HOME SECURITY - WEST ENTRY OPENED.
My blood pressure seemed to drop through the floor.
I opened the camera feed.
A hooded figure moved through my kitchen.
Same build Tom had described.
"The estate," I said.
Police units turned before I finished the sentence.
By the time we arrived, the figure was gone.
Nothing appeared disturbed downstairs.
Then Claire stopped at the foot of the staircase.
"Mom's room."
We ran up.
Margaret's bedroom had stayed almost untouched since her death. Not frozen in time, but close enough that the air still smelled faintly of her lavender hand cream when the closet doors opened.
One drawer stood open.
Claire moved to the dresser.
"Something's missing."
"What?"
"The music box."
I looked at her.
"The one from your grandmother?"
"No. Mom's blue one. She used to hide birthday money in the bottom."
Noah, who had insisted on staying with Claire while an officer watched him, looked up.
"Grandma's secret music box?"
Claire crouched.
"What did you call it?"
"Secret music box. Mommy showed me a picture."
Claire's face changed.
"Dad, Mom once gave me a tiny key and said not to lose it. I thought it was jewelry."
A detective called from the hallway.
"Mr. Whitmore."
On the dresser lay a white rose boutonniere.
Samuel's boutonniere from the wedding.
May you like
Beneath it was one fresh drop of blood.
