Chapter 7 - The Rosary
The darkness was disorienting, thick and suffocating. I reached out blindly, my hands finding Emily’s trembling shoulders.
"Stay behind me," I whispered fiercely, pulling her toward the walk-in pantry.
The dining room erupted into chaos. The expensive crystal shattered as guests panicked in the dark, their voices echoing in the large, cavernous house.
"Mom, he locked the front gates," Emily breathed in my ear. "He said the perimeter was armed. How did the power go out?"
"He didn't cut the power," a new voice spoke from the darkness near the kitchen island. A flashlight beam clicked on, illuminating the granite counter.
It was Mr. Vance, the security contractor. He stood tall and calm in a tactical vest, holding a large, heavy flashlight.
"We cut the power, Mrs. Greyson," Vance said. "We detected multiple unauthorized vehicles approaching the estate gates. We initiated a blackout to neutralize their visual advantage."
"Are my guests safe?" I asked, keeping my arm firmly in front of Emily.
"My men are securing the dining room now," Vance replied. "But Mr. Rowe slipped past us in the confusion. He's heading for the stairs."
My heart stopped. The stairs.
"Leo," Emily screamed, surging forward.
I grabbed her arm. "Vance, he's going for my grandson. Stop him!"
Vance unholstered a weapon and sprinted out the kitchen door, his flashlight beam slicing through the dark hallway. Emily and I followed as fast as we could navigate the shadows.
We reached the grand foyer. The moonlight streaming through the high arched windows painted the sweeping staircase in pale, ghostly light.
Halfway up the stairs stood Daniel. He wasn't running anymore. He was frozen, staring up at the landing.
Standing at the top of the stairs was little Leo. He was wearing his dinosaur pajamas, holding his broken fire truck in one hand. But it was what he held in the other hand that made Daniel freeze.
It was an old, heavy wooden rosary.
"Leo, go back to your room!" Emily cried out from the bottom of the stairs.
Daniel snapped out of his trance and lunged up the remaining steps, reaching for the boy. "Come here, you little brat. You're my ticket out of here."
"Daniel, no!" I shouted, starting up the stairs.
But as Daniel’s hand closed around Leo’s small arm, a massive figure stepped out of the shadows of the nursery doorway. It was another one of Vance's security operators.
Without a word, the operator grabbed Daniel by the collar of his expensive suit, hoisted him backward, and threw him down the carpeted stairs.
Daniel tumbled down, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the staircase, right at my feet.
He groaned, trying to push himself up, but I stepped forward and planted the heel of my shoe firmly into his chest, pinning him to the floor.
"Don't move," I commanded.
I looked up at Leo. The little boy walked slowly down the stairs, ignoring the chaos. He stopped two steps above me and held out the wooden rosary.
"The man in my room said to give this to you, Grandma," Leo said innocently.
I took the rosary, my breath catching in my throat. I knew this rosary. It belonged to Arthur Rowe. Daniel’s father.
I looked down at Daniel, who was staring at the beads with wide, horrified eyes.
"How..." Daniel choked out. "How do you have that?"
I leaned down, my face inches from his. "Because, Daniel, when I investigated your background, I didn't just find your offshore accounts. I found your father's old business partner. The man who actually stole his money and forced his bankruptcy. The man who runs the very syndicate you owe money to."
Daniel’s face contorted in absolute disbelief. "No. No, it was your firm. You rejected the loan."
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"We rejected the loan because we knew his partner was defrauding him," I said quietly. "I tried to warn him. He didn't listen. You spent your entire life hating the wrong person, Daniel. You sold your soul to the man who killed your father."
Outside, the unmistakable sound of police sirens began to wail in the distance, growing louder by the second.
