Chapter 11 - AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR
It was a quiet Tuesday evening when the peace was briefly interrupted.
The boys were fast asleep upstairs in their nursery.
Lena and I were sitting in the home study, reviewing household supply lists and children's activity schedules.
The grandfather clock in the corner ticked softly.
Suddenly, the front doorbell chimed.
Echoing through the silent hallway.
I frowned, glancing at my watch.
It was 9:00 PM.
We weren't expecting any visitors or deliveries.
"I'll get it," Lena offered, standing up from her desk.
"Stay here," I said, placing my pen down. "I'll check the security monitor first."
I tapped the touch screen on my desk.
The front porch camera activated in high definition.
Standing on the doorstep was a tall man in a dark trench coat.
His face was partially obscured by the hood of his coat and the dim porch lighting.
He pressed the doorbell a second time.
"Who is that?" Lena asked, peering over my shoulder.
"I don't know," I muttered, zooming in on the monitor.
The man looked directly into the camera lens.
And even through the distorted fish-eye view, something about his posture sent a sudden chill down my spine.
He didn't look like a delivery man or a reporter.
He looked like a hunter.
"Stay in the study, Lena," I instructed firmly, opening the bottom drawer of my desk where my licensed security firearm was locked away.
I loaded the magazine with a practiced click.
"Ethan, be careful," Lena whispered, her hand resting anxiously on my arm.
"I'll be right back," I reassured her, stepping out into the hallway.
I walked quietly toward the heavy front double doors.
I peered through the brass peephole.
The man was still standing there, staring straight ahead with chilling patience.
I threw the deadbolt, pulled the door open half an inch with the security chain engaged, and demanded, "Who are you and what do you want?"
The man slowly lowered his hood.
Revealing a face scarred with a jagged burn mark across his left cheek.
He smiled, showing a row of stark white teeth.
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"Good evening, Mr. Caldwell," the stranger said in a low, raspy voice.
"I think it's time we talked about what Margaret left behind in the attic."
