“She said the driver knew where.”
“What driver?”
“The gray-haired man,” Lucas said. “Mr. Paul.”
I looked at Margaret.
She was already moving, tablet in hand.
“When did she send you?” I asked.
“This morning,” Noah said.
My pulse jumped. “Where was she?”
Lucas looked down.
“At the house.”
“What house?”
“Near the water,” Noah said. “With the blue door.”
Margaret looked up. “I can start searching property records, transportation logs, cameras.”
“Do it.”
My voice sounded unlike my own.
Cold.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
Then Lucas whispered, “The bad men came back.”
Every instinct in me went still.
“What bad men?”
Noah’s lip trembled. “Mama said we weren’t supposed to open the curtains.”
Lucas nodded. “But I did once. There was a black car outside.”
“How many men?”
“Two,” Noah said.
“Three,” Lucas corrected. “One stayed in the car.”
I rose slowly.
Margaret’s face had gone completely white.
“Call legal,” I said. “Call Holt. Tell him I need private security here in ten minutes. Quietly.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And find Claire.”
The boys flinched at her name.
Lucas looked at me with eyes too old for seven. “Mama said you’d say that.”
My throat tightened. “What else did she say?”
Noah answered this time.
“She said you would want to save her.”
A terrible silence filled the office.
“And?” I asked.
“She said not to.”
I stared at them.
Lucas held out the locket.