Chapter 6 - The Fire Twelve Years Ago
I confronted Adrian in the library with the note trembling between my fingers.
He read it, then asked my father's name. "Thomas Bennett," I said.
Adrian shut his eyes. He knew the name. My father had worked as an accountant for a shipping company once controlled by Adrian's father. Thomas had discovered fraudulent invoices and disappeared into the fire before he could testify.
"You knew?" I asked.
"I knew there was a fire. I didn't know he had a daughter. I was twenty-five, and my father kept his secrets."
The answer did not erase my anger. I walked away, and Adrian let me.
I spent the evening reading old newspaper articles on a laptop. The fire had been ruled accidental, but a witness had reported seeing a dark sedan leaving the warehouse. The witness recanted.
The next morning Adrian brought me a sealed box of records his father had left. "These are yours to examine," he said. "Take copies to anyone you trust."
Inside was a photograph of my father standing beside a younger Dean Russo and a man whose face had been partly torn away.
On the back my father had written: THE ARCHITECT KEEPS THE BOOKS.
I realized someone had drawn me into this mansion deliberately.
Adrian looked sick when I said it aloud.
"Who recommended me for this job?" I asked.
He called the staffing agency. Their records showed my application had been flagged for immediate placement by a private client.
The client had paid in cash.
May you like
The name on the receipt was Thomas Bennett.
My father had been dead for twelve years.
