Chapter 3 - The Locked Bedroom
Nobody moved.
Three knocks.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Noah grabbed my shirt.
“Daddy.”
I pulled him closer.
The officer drew his attention toward the hallway.
“Everyone stay here.”
He walked forward.
Derek followed.
I stayed with Noah.
Travis suddenly looked terrified.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Terrified.
The officer reached the bedroom door.
“Is someone inside?”
No answer.
He tried the handle.
Locked.
“Who has the key?”
Travis swallowed.
“I don't.”
The officer looked at him.
“Who does?”
Travis didn't speak.
Derek turned toward me.
“Your house.”
“I don't lock that room.”
The officer tried again.
“Step back.”
He forced the door open.
The room was dark.
Empty.
Almost.
There was a phone charging beside the bed.
A woman's purse on the chair.
And a small blue backpack on the floor.
I recognized it.
It belonged to Lena.
My wife.
She hadn't lived with me for almost a year.
We were separated.
But we had agreed Noah would spend time with both of us.
Lena had started dating Travis three months earlier.
I had never liked him.
But I had never imagined this.
I stepped toward the room.
The officer blocked me.
“Wait.”
He entered first.
He looked around.
Then he picked up the phone.
“Whose is this?”
Travis said nothing.
The officer turned the screen toward me.
It was Lena's phone.
I stared at it.
“Why is her phone here?”
No answer.
Then my own phone vibrated.
A new message.
From Lena.
My heart jumped.
I opened it.
Don't trust Travis.
I stared at the words.
The message had been sent seven minutes earlier.
I looked at the officer.
“She's alive.”
Everyone turned.
“What?” Derek asked.
“Lena just texted me.”
I showed him.
He read it.
His expression hardened.
The officer immediately asked me to forward the message.
I did.
Then another message arrived.
Don't call me.
Then:
He knows.
I looked at Travis.
He had gone pale.
“What does he know?”
Travis didn't answer.
The officer stepped closer.
“Where is Lena?”
“I don't know.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
Derek looked toward the bedroom.
“Check the phone.”
The officer did.
There were dozens of deleted messages.
A forensic officer was requested.
I sat on the sofa with Noah.
He was exhausted.
His eyes kept closing.
I brushed his hair away from his forehead.
“Can you tell Daddy what happened?”
He nodded.
“Mommy came.”
“When?”
“Before lunch.”
“What happened?”
“She was mad.”
“Why?”
“Because Travis took her phone.”
I looked at Derek.
“Then what?”
Noah whispered, “Mommy said she was going to tell Daddy.”
My stomach tightened.
“Tell Daddy what?”
He looked toward the hallway.
“She said Travis was bad.”
Travis suddenly shouted.
“That's enough!”
The officers immediately turned.
Travis raised his hands.
“I didn't hurt that kid.”
Noah flinched.
I pulled him closer.
Travis noticed.
His expression changed.
“I didn't.”
The officer said, “You need to stop talking.”
Travis looked at me.
“You don't know what she told you.”
“What did she tell me?”
He stared at me.
Then he said something I didn't expect.
“She wasn't supposed to come back.”
The room went silent.
Derek stepped forward.
“Come back from where?”
Travis didn't answer.
The officer asked again.
“Where was Lena supposed to go?”
Travis shook his head.
“I don't know.”
But his eyes went toward the blue backpack.
The officer picked it up.
Inside were clothes.
A passport.
Cash.
A small notebook.
And a folded photograph.
The photograph showed Lena standing beside another man.
I recognized the man.
It was someone I hadn't seen in years.
My former business partner.
Evan Cole.
I took one step backward.
Derek looked at me.
“Who is that?”
“Someone from my past.”
The officer unfolded the photograph.
On the back was a handwritten sentence.
If anything happens to me, ask Daniel what happened at the warehouse.
My name.
My blood went cold.
Because I knew exactly which warehouse she meant.
And I hadn't thought about that place in eight years.
Then the officer opened the notebook.
The first page contained only one sentence.
Travis isn't the person I'm afraid of.
May you like
The second page had a name.
And when I saw it, I realized Lena hadn't been hiding from Travis at all...
