Chapter 4 - Darkness at Oakhaven
The blackout plunged the room into a deep, velvety shadows, broken only by the thin beams of moonlight filtering through the tall mahogany window frames.
Katherine let out a sharp gasp in the dark.
“Stay still,” Grace commanded quietly. “Robert, where is the emergency generator switch?”
“It’s in the basement sub-level,” Robert whispered back, his voice tense. “It should have kicked in automatically within five seconds. The circuit breaker must have been manually tripped from the main panel in the pantry.”
“Frank,” Katherine whispered from the darkness.
Grace reached out, her hand finding Katherine’s cold, trembling arm. “We don't move together in a large group. Robert, you go down the back servants' stairs to the library. Get Caleb. Tell him everything we just learned. Do not engage Frank.”
“What about you two?” Robert asked, his silhouette visible against the silver moonlit window.
“I’m taking Katherine through the connecting dressing room into my suite,” Grace said. “My phone is on the nightstand. I’ll dial the State Police Captain directly on his private line.”
“Be careful, Grace,” Robert said, stepping toward the door. “Frank knows every inch of this floor plan.”
Robert unlocked the door as quietly as possible and slipped out into the ink-black hallway.
Grace held Katherine’s hand firmly. “Hold onto my belt, Katherine. Walk on the outside edges of the floorboards—they don't creak as much.”
They moved slowly through the darkness, stepping through the narrow connecting door into the master dressing room. The air smelled of expensive perfume, leather, and polished wood.
Grace’s heart was hammering against her ribcage like a trapped bird, but her mind was crystal clear. For thirty years, she had managed Oakhaven Springs—hosting governors, handling estate disputes, keeping the family’s public image pristine. She had protected her son from every hardship she could shield him from.
She was not going to let her home become a graveyard.
They reached the master bedroom. Moonlight flooded the massive space through the arched windows, casting long, geometric shadows across the king-sized bed.
Grace rushed to her nightstand, her fingers scrambling over the polished mahogany surface until they found her iPhone. She tapped the screen.
Nothing happened.
She held down the power button. The screen remained dead and dark.
“It’s dead,” Grace muttered, frowning. “I charged it to one hundred percent before the wedding ceremony.”
She reached for the brass landline phone sitting beside the lamp. She lifted the receiver to her ear.
No dial tone. Just dead, hollow silence.
“The phone lines were cut,” Katherine whispered, standing near the closet. “And he must have used a portable signal jammer for the cell phones. My uncle used to use them during confidential audit meetings.”
A floorboard creaked in the corridor outside the master bedroom.
Grace snapped her head toward the doorway.
The sound was slow, deliberate, and heavy. Someone was walking toward the primary bedroom.
“In the wardrobe,” Grace whispered, pushing Katherine toward the massive, antique walnut armoire near the corner wall. “Now. Don't make a sound.”
“Grace, no—”
“Get in!” Grace commanded in a harsh whisper.
Katherine squeezed inside the dark armoire, pulling the heavy mirrored door almost shut, leaving only a quarter-inch crack.
Grace stepped back into the center of the room, smoothing her satin robe, pulling her shoulders back, and lifting her chin high.
A shadow filled the doorway.
Frank Monroe stepped into the moonlit room. He had taken off his suit jacket, rolling his white dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows. In his right hand, he held a heavy brass hearth poker pulled from the library fireplace.
May you like
He looked at Grace, a slow, sad smile spreading across his face.
“Grace,” Frank said softly, his tone completely conversational. “Where is your beautiful new daughter-in-law?”
