Chapter 7 - Trapped in the Dark
"Cole!" I shouted, my voice bouncing off the concrete walls of the windowless room.
"Stay down!" Cole yelled, his tactical flashlight clicking back on, its beam cutting through the sudden pitch-black darkness. He lunged up the narrow wooden steps, throwing his shoulder against the oak backing of the armoire.
BANG.
The heavy wood didn't budge. Whoever was on the other side had shoved a heavy piece of furniture against the double doors.
"Dispatch, this is Unit 404! Officer down in a basement structure at 1420 Lake Forest Drive! I need immediate backup!" Cole yelled into his shoulder radio.
Static answered him. Thick, heavy white noise.
"The concrete basement is blocking the signal," Cole swore, slamming his fist against the radio. "We’re cut off."
From the other side of the oak wall, a voice spoke.
It wasn't Ryan’s voice. It was thin, dry, and raspy, like dry leaves scraping across pavement.
"You should have left the cabinet alone, Hannah."
Diane.
My mother-in-law was standing in the hallway upstairs.
"Diane!" I screamed, rushing up the steps behind Cole. "Open this door! Lily is in the hospital because of you! Open the door!"
"Lily is a lovely little girl," Diane’s voice drifted through the wood, entirely devoid of the frail, senile hysteria she had displayed on the driveway the night before. Her tone was precise, cold, and calculating. "She looks so much like Ryan did when he was small. But you were always so inquisitive, Hannah. So loud. Clara was quiet. Clara never looked in the closets."
My blood turned to ice. "Who is Clara?!"
"Ryan’s second wife," Diane said casually, as if discussing the weather. "Before you, dear. But Clara caught Ryan looking at the bank statements from Switzerland. She didn't listen either."
I stared at Cole in the dim beam of his flashlight. His face was frozen in shock.
"How many wives were there, Diane?!" I screamed, beating my fists against the oak paneling.
"Just Clara," Diane replied smoothly. "We buried her under the rose garden in the old property in Ojai. But you... you brought the police into our home. You brought the paramedics into our lives. Ryan worked so hard to build this security for us, and you destroyed it in one night."
"Diane, listen to me," Detective Cole called out, keeping his voice firm and steady. "This is Officer Marcus Cole, Cook County Sheriff's Department. This house is surrounded by perimeter units. If you don't unbolt this door right now, you will be facing federal kidnapping and attempted murder of a law enforcement officer."
A soft, eerie chuckle came through the wall.
"The perimeter units left twenty minutes ago, Officer," Diane said. "They thought the house was secure. And Ryan is on his way from the courthouse right now. He’s coming to clean up the mess."
"Diane—"
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"I’ve turned off the main gas line valve in the hallway," she added, her voice growing fainter as her footsteps began to recede down the corridor. "And I've lit a small candle in the pantry. You have about fifteen minutes before the vapors reach the pilot light on the water heater. Goodbye, Hannah. You really were a very pretty girl."
The sound of her heels clicking away across the broken glass in the foyer was the last thing we heard.
