Chapter 2 - The Sound Behind the Wall
Grant clutched the blue folder tightly against his chest.
The two men stepped slowly into the library.
Their thick boots left wet marks on the Persian rug.
Grant looked at the window behind the desk.
It was locked shut with heavy brass latches.
"Put the folder back on the desk, Grant."
Richard raised his silver cane toward the floor.
"You have no idea what you are dealing with."
"I built this town."
"The police chief is my personal friend."
"The judge handling the custody case owes me his career."
Grant took a step back toward the corner of the desk.
"You hid my wife for four years!"
"You made me grieve an empty casket!"
"You made my daughter grow up without a mother!"
Richard walked closer with slow, deliberate steps.
"Clara was going to destroy this family."
"She was going to report financial irregularities."
"It would have ruined my reputation."
"It would have destroyed everything I worked fifty years to build."
"I protected my legacy."
Grant felt a deep rage rising inside his chest.
"She is your own daughter!"
"She was a threat to my survival!"
Richard snapped his fingers toward the two large men.
"Take the folder from him."
"Make sure he does not leave this house on his feet."
The taller man lunged forward with the crowbar.
Grant swung the heavy mahogany desk chair with all his strength.
The wooden chair slammed hard into the man’s chest.
The man fell backward against the bookshelf.
Heavy hardback books crashed down around him.
The second man lunged toward Grant’s throat.
Grant ducked under his arm and shoved him hard against the wall.
Grant sprinted toward the library door.
Richard raised his heavy silver cane to block the doorway.
Grant struck the cane out of Richard’s hand with his elbow.
Richard stumbled backward against the door frame.
Grant ran down the long carpeted hallway.
He vaulted over the grand staircase railing.
He landed heavily on the hard marble floor in the foyer.
A sharp pain shot up his left ankle.
Grant ignored the pain and scrambled to his feet.
He threw open the front entrance door and burst into the rain.
He ran down the dark gravel driveway toward his truck.
Behind him, he heard shouted orders from the porch.
Grant jumped into the driver's seat and locked the doors.
He jammed the key into the ignition.
The engine roared to life.
He slammed his foot on the gas pedal.
The pickup truck sped away into the dark, rainy night.
Grant drove straight to the town police station.
The tires screeched as he pulled into the empty parking lot.
He ran inside the warm, brightly lit lobby.
Officer Miller sat behind the glass front counter.
Miller looked up from his computer screen in surprise.
"Grant? What happened to you?"
"You're soaked to the bone."
Grant slammed the blue folder down on the counter.
"I need to report a crime."
"My wife is alive."
"Richard Sterling hid her in the private care center on River Road."
"He faked her death four years ago!"
Officer Miller looked at Grant with concern.
He did not open the blue folder.
He reached for the desk telephone instead.
"Grant, take a deep breath."
"You sound out of breath."
"Let me call Chief Vance first."
Five minutes later, Chief Vance walked out of his back office.
He was a tall man with grey hair and a stern face.
He looked down at the documents on the counter.
He picked up the blue folder and flipped through the pages slowly.
He looked up at Grant with a cold, flat expression.
"Grant, where did you get these papers?"
"I got them from Richard’s library desk an hour ago."
Chief Vance closed the folder slowly.
"So you broke into Judge Sterling's house?"
"He lied about Clara's death!"
"Look at the photograph, Chief!"
"She is holding yesterday's newspaper!"
Chief Vance set the folder behind his desk counter.
"Judge Sterling called me fifteen minutes ago, Grant."
"He reported a violent burglary at his estate."
"He said you attacked his security guards."
"He said you stole private family legal documents."
Grant stared at the chief in total shock.
"He lied!"
"He is holding my wife captive!"
Chief Vance reached for his handcuffs on his belt.
"Grant, you are under arrest for first-degree burglary and assault."
"Turn around and put your hands behind your back."
"Chief, please!"
"Look at the evidence!"
"The evidence was obtained during a felony break-in."
"It is completely inadmissible in any court."
"And right now, you belong in a cell."
Grant felt the cold steel lock around his wrists.
His stomach dropped into a deep, dark pit.
He realized Richard controlled the entire system.
The police were not going to help him.
The court was not going to help him.
Grant was locked inside a small, damp holding cell.
The iron door slammed shut with a heavy metallic boom.
Grant sat on the narrow bench and put his head in his hands.
He had lost his freedom.
At nine o'clock tomorrow, Richard would take Lily away forever.
And Clara would remain trapped in that building across the river.
Hours passed in absolute silence.
At four o'clock in the morning, soft footsteps approached the cell door.
It was Deputy Hayes, a young officer Grant knew from high school.
Hayes checked the hallway to ensure the chief was not around.
Hayes pulled a small key from his pocket.
"Grant, keep your voice down."
"My mother was Clara's nurse at the general hospital years ago."
"She always told me Clara was a good woman."
Hayes unlocked the cell door with a quiet click.
"What are you doing, Hayes?"
"I checked the River Road facility records on my personal computer."
"That place isn't a hospital, Grant."
"It's an unregistered private detention center."
"Richard owns sixty percent of the holding company."
Hayes handed Grant his truck keys and his leather wallet.
"Get out of here through the back garage door."
"If Chief Vance finds out I opened this door, I lose my badge."
Grant grabbed the keys with deep gratitude.
"Thank you, Hayes."
"I won't forget this."
Grant ran out through the dark rear garage.
He jumped into his truck and started the engine.
He drove across the dark river bridge as fast as the truck could go.
Rain slammed against the windshield in relentless sheets.
He pulled up near the heavy brick walls of the River Road facility.
The tall iron gates were locked shut with thick chains.
Grant parked his truck hidden behind a cluster of pine trees.
He grabbed a heavy iron lug wrench from under his truck seat.
He climbed over the low stone wall into the dark rear courtyard.
The building was completely dark except for one window on the third floor.
Grant crept up the rusty fire escape stairs on the side of the building.
He reached the third-floor metal landing.
He looked through the thick glass of the window.
Inside was a narrow hallway lined with heavy wooden doors.
Grant used the iron lug wrench to pry open the heavy fire exit door.
The metal lock snapped with a loud crack.
Grant stepped into the cold, silent hallway.
The air smelled strongly of bleach and old dust.
He walked past empty rooms with small barred windows.
He reached the end of the long hallway.
He heard a soft, rhythmic scraping sound coming from behind the far wall.
Grant walked closer to the locked door labeled Room 304.
He pressed his ear against the cold wooden door frame.
A voice was humming a quiet, familiar lullaby.
It was the same lullaby Grant used to sing to Lily when she was a baby.
Grant felt a lump form in his throat.
"Clara?" he whispered through the crack in the door.
The humming stopped instantly.
A soft gasp came from inside the room.
"Grant?"
"Is that you?"
"Clara! Yes! I'm here!"
Grant jammed the lug wrench into the door frame near the lock.
He threw all his weight against the iron bar.
The wood splintered violently.
The heavy lock burst out of the frame.
The door swung wide open.
A small lamp lit the small room.
A woman stood near the far wall.
Her hair was longer than before, streaked with grey.
Her face was pale and thin.
But her deep brown eyes were unmistakable.
It was Clara.
Grant took two steps forward and pulled her into his arms.
Clara cried softly into his shoulder, holding him with all her strength.
"I thought you forgot about me, Grant."
"I never forgot you, Clara."
"He told me you died in a fire!"
"He showed me your ashes!"
Clara pulled back and looked into his eyes.
"He kept me trapped here for four years."
"He told me if I ever tried to escape, he would take Lily away from you."
"He said he would ruin your life."
"I only did what he wanted to protect you and Lily."
"We have to leave right now, Clara."
"The police are looking for me."
"Richard is taking Lily to court at nine o'clock."
Clara grabbed Grant's jacket sleeves tightly.
"Grant, we can't just run away."
"Why?"
"Because Richard doesn't just have political power."
Clara pointed to a locked metal box underneath her small bed.
"He brought those documents here yesterday."
"He made me sign the custody transfer forms at gunpoint."
"If we show up at that court without proof of his extortion, they will arrest you and hand Lily to him instantly."
Suddenly, loud footsteps echoed from the stairs down the hallway.
Heavy boots stomped fast against the concrete floor.
Richard walked into the doorway holding a dark revolver in his right hand.
Behind him stood Chief Vance with a drawn pistol.
Richard smiled with terrible satisfaction.
"You really are predictable, Grant."
"I knew you would come straight here."
Richard pointed the revolver directly at Grant's chest.
"You escaped from a police cell."
"You broke into a private facility."
"You are holding a fragile woman against her will."
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"When Chief Vance shoots you tonight, it will be ruled a tragic act of self-defense."
"And tomorrow morning, I will walk into court and take my granddaughter forever."
