Chapter 2 - The Room Beneath the Mansion
Police did not storm the Vance mansion based on a frightened man’s accusation alone.
They preserved the chapel.
Separated witnesses.
Seized the jammer after photographing it in place.
Documented the forged papers Margaret had placed on the coffin.
Copied Daniel’s message.
Requested emergency judicial authorization based on the combined evidence.
By 4:51 a.m., Detective Alicia Monroe was standing beside Sarah in the funeral-home office.
“You are not going to the mansion.”
“My husband may be under it.”
“And if somebody is holding him there, I’m not bringing his wife and eleven-year-old daughter into an active search.”
Sarah hated her instantly for being correct.
Emma sat wrapped in a funeral-home blanket.
She had finally stopped crying.
“Is Dad alive?”
Monroe crouched.
“We have evidence suggesting he was alive when that video was recorded.”
“When?”
“We’re determining that.”
“Will you tell me if you find him?”
“Yes.”
Emma nodded.
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
That promise mattered more than anything Monroe said afterward.
The search began shortly after six.
The Vance mansion sat on twenty acres outside Dallas, owned through a family holding company. Margaret and Charles lived there. Ryan maintained an apartment in the east wing.
Sarah and Daniel had stopped living there years earlier.
Police found no visible basement entrance beneath the main staircase.
Then a structural drawing from the county records showed something unusual.
A storm-shelter room constructed twenty-six years earlier beneath the old wine cellar.
It had been removed from later renovation plans.
Investigators found the sealed doorway behind built-in shelving.
Fresh screws.
Fresh paint.
Inside was a concrete corridor.
A medical cot.
A portable oxygen unit.
Bottled water.
A camera tripod.
And blood traces.
But no Daniel.
The restraint chair from the video was there.
So was the wall with six framed photographs.
Each displayed an employee name and date of death.
Thomas Reed had been company controller.
He was supposed to have died of an overdose three days earlier.
Instead he had been drugged, dressed as Daniel, and sealed inside a coffin.
The six photographs belonged to:
Martin Shaw, plant supervisor.
Helen Brooks, compliance analyst.
Arthur Lane, procurement manager.
Jesse Cole, warehouse auditor.
Peter Walsh, driver.
And Dana Myers, internal accountant.
All had died during the previous seven years.
Different incidents.
A fall.
A boating accident.
A house fire.
A highway collision.
Two medical emergencies.
No obvious connection except employment at Vance Medical Distribution.
Daniel had been chief financial officer.
Margaret and Charles owned the company.
Ryan ran procurement.
And every dead employee had worked in a department touching finances, inventory, or compliance.
Detective Monroe called Sarah at 7:26.
“We found the room.”
“Daniel?”
“No.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
“But?”
“There is evidence he was there recently.”
“How recently?”
“Potentially within the last twenty-four hours.”
Emma heard.
She stood.
“My dad escaped?”
“Possibly.”
Then Monroe asked:
“Did Daniel ever mention a man named Jonathan Pike?”
Sarah searched memory.
“No.”
“What about Pike Consulting?”
“No.”
“He sent Daniel seventeen encrypted emails during the month before his disappearance.”
“Who is he?”
“A forensic accountant.”
Sarah’s heart accelerated.
Daniel had never told her.
Monroe continued.
“He appears to have been helping Daniel trace the missing eight million.”
“Then find him.”
“We’re trying.”
The phone buzzed in Monroe’s hand.
She went silent.
“What?”
“Patrol officers found an abandoned company vehicle three miles from the Vance estate.”
Sarah stood.
“Daniel?”
“No person inside.”
“But there’s blood on the steering wheel.”
Her stomach dropped.
“Whose?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Then Monroe added:
“And there’s something in the cargo area.”
“What?”
May you like
“A second coffin.”
Cliffhanger: The Vance family had prepared another coffin—and police had no idea who it was meant to contain.
