Chapter 4 - The Unseen Listener
I retreated to our second-floor guest suite under the guise of taking pain medication and resting my back. Daniel stayed downstairs, his voice joining the chorus of laughter that drifted up through the floorboards every few minutes.
Once inside the bedroom, I locked the heavy brass bolt on the door. I walked over to the private bathroom, turned the hot water tap on full blast to create a wall of rushing sound, and pulled my phone from my pocket.
My hands were shaking so badly it took me three attempts to unlock the screen.
There was a single encrypted text message from an unknown number: Do not drink anything they hand you. Agent Bennett.
A cold sweat broke out across my collarbone. I looked back toward the nightstand where I had set down the glass of bourbon Richard had given me. I hadn't touched a drop of it, but the mere thought of what might have been mixed into that amber alcohol made my throat tighten.
I tapped out a quick response: Dr. Aris Thorne is coming to the lodge tomorrow morning at eight. Elaine invited him.
The response came back within ten seconds: Understood. Do not allow him to examine you or administer any medication. We have a team positioning near the north gate of the property. Stay in your room tonight.
I stared at the screen until the display timed out and went dark.
I moved to the bedroom window, pulling back the thick velvet drapes just an inch. Outside, the blizzard was in full force, wiping out the visibility beyond the driveway. The tall pine trees swayed wildly against the gray sky, their branches weighed down by heavy ice.
As I stood there watching the snow, I heard soft footsteps in the hallway outside my room.
I froze, holding my breath.
The footsteps stopped directly outside the locked wooden door. There was a faint movement against the brass handle—a slow, deliberate pressure as someone checked to see if the bolt was engaged.
The handle creaked softly, then returned to its neutral position.
"Rebecca?"
It was Daniel's voice, low and muffled through the thick oak door.
I didn't answer. I kept my back pressed against the wall beside the window, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"Rebecca, I know you're awake," he said softly. "Open the door. I brought your night medicine from the kitchen."
"I took something already, Daniel," I called out, forcing my voice to sound slurred and heavy with sleep. "I'm lying down. Please... I just want to sleep."
There was a long pause on the other side of the door. I could hear the faint sound of his breathing through the wood.
"My mother just wants what's best for you," Daniel said, his tone entirely devoid of the warmth he usually faked. "She spent a lot of money on your surgery, Rebecca. We all invested a lot in your recovery. It would be a terrible shame if you let a little fall ruin everything we've planned."
"I'm fine, Daniel," I repeated, my hand resting over the sharp ache in my spine. "We'll talk in the morning."
May you like
"Yes," he whispered, his footsteps slowly receding down the hallway toward the stairs. "We certainly will."
I didn't sleep that night. I sat in a chair facing the locked door, holding an antique brass letter opener I had found in the desk drawer, watching the shadows shift across the ceiling as the snow piled up against the glass.
