Chapter 4 - The Key in the Music Box
The fire damaged only one room.
That fact should have comforted Helena.
It did the opposite.
The bedroom had been searched before it was burned.
Drawers were open.
Clothes were scattered across the floor.
The mattress had been cut.
A wooden box that had belonged to Helena’s grandmother lay shattered beside the bed.
Nothing valuable appeared to be missing.
That was because Helena owned almost nothing valuable.
At least that was what she had always believed.
Adrian stood in the doorway while a detective photographed the room.
Noah was downstairs with Adrian’s assistant, Claire.
Helena had refused to let him see the damage.
“What key?”
She asked the question for the third time.
Adrian looked toward the detective.
“Can we talk outside?”
Helena followed him into the hallway.
“The investigator said Vanessa hired him to find a brass key.”
“What does it open?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“He was given photographs.”
“Of what?”
“Your grandmother’s possessions.”
Helena stared through the bedroom doorway.
“My grandmother died when I was nineteen.”
“You inherited her apartment.”
“Until it was sold.”
“Who handled the sale?”
“Vanessa’s attorney.”
Adrian’s expression sharpened.
“Why?”
“Because your father helped me.”
“My grandmother worked for him.”
Adrian knew that.
Evelyn Brooks had been Robert Vale’s executive assistant for nearly twenty years.
She had been more trusted than most members of the family.
Helena continued.
“After Grandma died, your father told me not to worry about the legal paperwork.”
“Vanessa’s attorney handled everything.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Which attorney?”
“Martin Reese.”
Adrian took out his phone.
Helena caught his wrist.
“Don’t call anyone yet.”
“Why?”
“Because every time someone learns we’re looking, something else happens.”
Adrian looked at her hand around his wrist.
Helena released him.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
They returned to the bedroom.
Helena crouched beside the broken wooden box.
It had contained photographs.
Receipts.
Old birthday cards.
Nothing important.
Then she noticed something.
One photograph was missing.
She began moving through the papers.
“What?”
Adrian knelt beside her.
“There was a picture.”
“Grandma and me at the lake.”
“What lake?”
“Vale Lake.”
Adrian frowned.
“My father’s cabin?”
“Yes.”
“He let Grandma use it one summer.”
“What was in the picture?”
“Nothing.”
“Just us standing by the dock.”
Adrian watched her search.
“Why would someone take that?”
Helena stopped.
On the back of the photograph, her grandmother had written a sentence.
She remembered because she had asked about it once.
When the house loses its voice, listen beneath the music.
At nineteen, Helena thought it was one of her grandmother’s strange sayings.
Now she was not so sure.
“Music.”
Adrian frowned.
“What?”
“My grandmother had a music box.”
“Where is it?”
Helena stood.
“It wasn’t here.”
“Where?”
She looked at him.
“In storage.”
The storage facility sat six miles outside the city.
Helena had rented the smallest unit available after moving into her apartment.
She rarely visited.
Most of the items belonged to her grandmother.
Old books.
Winter clothes.
A lamp.
Two chairs.
And a blue wooden music box shaped like a piano.
Adrian insisted on bringing security.
Helena hated the idea.
Then she remembered the fire.
She stopped arguing.
They arrived shortly before sunset.
Noah remained with Claire at Adrian’s hotel.
Helena unlocked unit 214.
Dust floated through the beam from the overhead light.
Adrian looked around.
“This is everything you kept?”
“Almost.”
Helena moved directly toward a cardboard box labeled EVELYN.
She opened it.
The music box was inside.
Blue paint.
Tiny silver hinges.
A painted moon on the lid.
Helena lifted it carefully.
“My grandmother played this every night when I stayed with her.”
Adrian examined it.
“Does it work?”
Helena wound the small metal key.
A soft melody filled the storage unit.
Nothing happened.
Adrian remembered the sentence.
“When the house loses its voice.”
Helena stopped winding.
The melody slowed.
Then ended.
“Listen beneath the music.”
They both looked at the bottom of the box.
Adrian turned it over.
Four small screws secured a thin wooden panel.
He removed a multitool from his pocket.
Helena stared.
“You just carry that?”
“I like being prepared.”
“Apparently.”
He loosened the screws.
The panel came away.
A brass key fell into Helena’s palm.
Neither spoke.
There was also a folded piece of paper.
Helena unfolded it.
Her grandmother’s handwriting covered one side.
My sweet Helena.
If you are reading this, then something happened that I hoped never would.
The key opens deposit box 417 at First Commonwealth Bank.
Everything inside belongs to you.
Do not give the key to Robert.
Do not give it to Vanessa.
Trust Adrian only if he comes to you without being sent.
Helena stopped reading.
Adrian stared at the final sentence.
“Why me?”
Helena shook her head.
The note continued.
Robert discovered something inside Vale Holdings that frightened him.
He asked me to preserve records outside the company.
Those records are protected by your trust.
If anyone tells you the trust is empty, they are lying.
If anyone tells you I sold the building on Hanover Street, they are lying.
If Vanessa is still in the family, tell Adrian to look at February 14.
I am sorry for leaving this burden with you.
Evelyn.
Helena looked up.
“What happened February fourteenth?”
Adrian’s face had gone pale.
“My father died February fourteenth.”
The storage unit suddenly felt colder.
Helena folded the note.
“Your father’s death was a heart attack.”
“That’s what I was told.”
“You don’t believe that anymore?”
Adrian did not answer immediately.
“My father had a meeting scheduled that morning.”
“With who?”
“Evelyn.”
Helena stared at him.
“My grandmother?”
“Yes.”
“She died six months before him.”
“I know.”
Adrian looked at the note.
“The meeting stayed on his private calendar.”
“He never deleted it.”
“February fourteenth.”
“Evelyn Brooks.”
“8:00 a.m.”
Helena tightened her fingers around the brass key.
“Why would he schedule a meeting with a dead woman?”
Adrian looked toward the open storage door.
“Maybe it wasn’t a meeting.”
“Maybe it was a reminder.”
A metallic noise echoed down the corridor.
Adrian instantly stepped in front of Helena.
“Stay here.”
The light at the far end of the hallway went out.
Then another.
Someone was moving through the facility.
Helena whispered.
“Adrian.”
“I know.”
He reached for his phone.
No signal.
The storage unit door suddenly began rolling downward.
Someone outside had triggered the emergency closure system.
Adrian ran forward.
The door slammed shut inches before he reached it.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Helena’s breathing quickened.
“Who knows we’re here?”
“No one.”
“You brought security.”
“They were outside.”
Adrian switched on his phone flashlight.
Then a smell reached them.
Gasoline.
Helena stared toward the bottom of the storage door.
Liquid was creeping underneath.
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“Get behind the shelves.”
May you like
A flame appeared beneath the door.
And suddenly the entire entrance erupted in fire.
