Chapter 14 - The Sheriff at the Marble Door
I heard his shoes change direction on the marble.
For two nights I'd learned every sound that floor made. Rubber soles going soft toward the kitchen. Bare feet padding fast — that was Mia. Dress shoes striking hard and stopping short — that was Nathan. Now I heard a second set of dress shoes, slower, and the suited man's voice pitched up louder than he'd used down here.
"Nathan. Front door. You've got a county car out front."
A pause stretched so long I counted my own breaths. Three. Four.
"What did you do?" Nathan said. His voice was low, right above me through the boards.
"Called in a welfare check," the man said. "You wouldn't let me open the hatch alone. So I didn't."
I pressed my forehead to the cold stone. Smart. He'd told me he would. If Nathan heard sheriff first, he'd posture for an audience instead of swinging.
Footsteps moved away from the hatch. I heard Mia whimper, "Don't leave me," and the suited man answer, quiet, "Stay by me. Just like we practiced, okay?"
The front door opened. Bright daylight spilled in — I could tell by the way the light shifted through the cracks around the hatch. A new voice came in, older, unhurried. County sheriff.
"Morning. Got a call about a missing woman? Three days?"
Nathan laughed, short. "My sister-in-law's confused. She's been sick. My niece is upset —"
"Sir, I need to see the child," the sheriff cut in.
I heard Mia's bare feet slap on marble as she stepped forward. I pictured her beige dress wrinkled, her ponytail coming loose, her feet dirty from running through that big hall all morning.
"Hi there, sweetheart," the sheriff said, and his voice dropped gentler. "What's your name?"
"Mia," she whispered.
"You been crying, Mia? Can you tell me what you heard?"
Silence. Then the suited man's hand must have settled on her shoulder, because she breathed in hard and spoke.
"Knocking. Downstairs. Under the floor."
My chest locked. That was my girl. That was exactly what we'd whispered through the wood.
"Show me where?" the sheriff asked.
More footsteps. Light bare feet, then heavier boots following. They stopped right over me. Dust sifted down through the seam and landed on my cardigan.
"Here," Mia said. "Here. She knocks two times. Like this."
She knocked with her little fist on the wood. Tap. Tap.
I tapped back before I could stop myself. Tap. Tap.
"Did you hear that?" The suited man said quickly. "Sheriff —"
"I heard it," the sheriff said. His tone changed. Flat now. Official. "Mr. Nathan? What is this panel here?"
"It's storage. Old house. It sticks —"
"Open it."
"I've got a key somewhere —"
The sheriff didn't move. I could hear his boots planted on marble. "Then we'll open it with you watching. Miss? Ma'am, are you down there?"
I tried to answer and my throat seized. Rope had burned my wrists raw and my mouth was dry from crying. I forced sound out.
"Yes. Please. I'm here."
Nathan slammed his hand on the hatch above me. The wood thumped my forehead with dust.
"She's delusional — she locked herself —"
"Sir, step back from the hatch," the sheriff said. "Step back now, hands where I can see them."
The suited man spoke fast, low. "Sheriff, she's bound. I saw rope. Don't let him go down first."
"I've got eyes on him," the sheriff said. "Young lady, stay by this gentleman. We're going to get your mom. Nathan, you stand by that staircase where I told you. Don't move."
I heard Nathan's shoes scrape back toward the stairs, toward that mirror. I heard Mia start to cry again, not loud — tired, relieved crying.
The sheriff knelt. His knees cracked on marble right above my head.
"Ma'am, I'm Sheriff Doyle, county sheriff. I'm going to have this opened with witnesses. You hang on. You hear me?"
May you like
I nodded against stone, then remembered he couldn't see me.
"Yes," I whispered. "I'm here. Don't let him leave."
