Chapter 2 - THE MAN OUTSIDE
Victor’s voice remained calm.
“You are frightening everyone.”
“Call the police,” I answered.
“We can resolve this privately.”
“That is not what innocent people say through a locked door.”
Gregory twisted against the cord around his wrists.
“Dad, she attacked me.”
“You raised a bat.”
“It was a joke.”
I almost laughed.
Instead I pulled my phone from the hidden pocket sewn into my dress.
No signal.
The cabin sat less than two hundred yards from the lodge. Every guest had used their phones throughout the reception.
Someone was blocking service.
Victor tried another keycard.
The electronic lock beeped but did not release because Gregory had engaged the interior deadbolt.
“Ashlynn,” Victor said, “put down the weapon.”
I looked at the blinking smoke detector.
The detector was not sensing smoke. Its red light blinked in a repeating pattern matching the three knocks.
It was part of the cabin’s security system.
Someone was watching.
I lifted the bat and struck the manual fire alarm beside the bathroom door.
The plastic cover shattered.
A siren erupted across the cabin.
Gregory screamed at me to stop.
Outside, Victor swore.
Automatic emergency lights activated along the path to the lodge. Staff would have to respond. The local fire department would receive the alarm even if the family controlled internal security.
Victor’s shoes moved away from the door.
I waited until unfamiliar voices arrived.
Resort employees.
Then Security Chief Mason Reed.
Then, finally, county deputies.
I opened the door only after a deputy identified himself through the window and ordered everyone outside to step back.
Victor was gone.
Gregory was taken to an ambulance with bruising, a strained shoulder, and no injury serious enough to explain the weapon.
I gave the bat to police.
Then I handed them the cord from his wrists and described every movement I had made.
The folded document beneath the bed had disappeared while officers cleared the room.
Only one torn corner remained.
Printed on it were four words:
NORTH RIDGE MARITAL CONSENT.
North Ridge was the eighty-acre tract my grandmother had left me.
It bordered Hartman Mountain Resort.
Gregory had asked me twice to sell it.
I had refused twice.
As officers photographed the cabin, Chief Reed checked the lock system.
“The outside master key was used at 11:17,” he said.
“Whose?”
May you like
He looked toward the empty path where Victor had been standing.
“The system says mine.”
