CHAPTER 4 — The Room Behind the Locked Door
CHAPTER 4 — The Room Behind the Locked Door
The words hung in the air.
"You need to see what we found locked inside the basement."
For a moment, I couldn't process them.
"Our basement?" I whispered.
The officer nodded grimly.
"Yes."
"I... I don't understand."
My mind raced through every corner of our house.
The laundry room.
The furnace.
Shelves of Christmas decorations.
Boxes of Addie's old baby clothes.
There had never been a locked room.
Had there?
Detective Angela Ruiz glanced at the hospital bed where Addie slept peacefully for the first time that night.
She lowered her voice.
"You don't have to come tonight."
"But I think it's important that you know what we found."
I looked at my daughter.
"I won't leave her."
"You don't need to."
"The scene has been secured."
She paused.
"I can tell you."
I nodded.
"When officers arrived at your house," Ruiz began, "Mr. Carter initially refused to let us inside."
"He said we needed a warrant."
"Legally, he was correct."
"So we obtained one."
She opened the folder she was carrying.
"During the search, one of the officers noticed fresh scratches on the concrete floor in the basement."
"Scratches?"
"As though something heavy had been dragged."
My stomach tightened.
"There was an old metal storage cabinet against the back wall."
"I've seen that cabinet."
"I thought it was bolted to the floor."
"It wasn't."
"It had been pushed in front of another door."
A door.
There had been another door in my basement.
One I had never seen.
One Luke had hidden.
Ruiz laid several photographs on the bedside table.
"I should warn you."
"These aren't graphic."
"But they're disturbing."
The first photo showed the storage cabinet moved aside.
Behind it was a narrow wooden door with a brand-new deadbolt.
I stared at it.
"I've never seen that."
"The paint around the frame is newer than the surrounding wall," Ruiz said.
"It appears the cabinet was intentionally positioned to conceal it."
The second photo showed the door open.
Beyond it was a small concrete room.
No windows.
Just a single chair.
A child's table.
Shelves.
And colorful drawings taped neatly to the walls.
My breath caught.
"What... is this?"
"No one knows yet."
Then Ruiz slid over one final photograph.
My heart stopped.
It was a small pink backpack.
Covered in glittering unicorns.
One of Addie's.
I had spent two days searching for it six months earlier.
Luke had insisted she'd lost it at preschool.
I remembered Addie crying herself to sleep because it had been her favorite.
Now it had been found...
Inside that hidden room.
"Oh, God..."
Tears blurred my vision.
"Why would he keep it there?"
No one answered.
A soft knock interrupted us.
Another officer stepped inside carrying a clear evidence bag.
Inside it was a worn spiral notebook.
"We found this too."
Ruiz carefully took the bag.
"It was hidden inside the room."
She looked at me.
"I think you should read the first page."
With gloved hands, she opened the notebook.
The handwriting wasn't Luke's.
It was small.
Uneven.
Like a child trying very hard to write neatly.
She read aloud.
Day 3
Daddy says sitting quietly makes me good.
If I cry, I stay longer.
If I say Mommy, I stay longer.
I don't like the quiet room.
My entire body went numb.
"No..."
Ruiz turned another page.
Day 11
Daddy says medicine is only for good kids.
I was bad today because I coughed.
The room spun.
Medicine.
Good kids.
Bad kids.
Consequences.
Lessons.
The same twisted words Luke had used with Addie.
"Whose notebook is that?" I whispered.
Ruiz closed it carefully.
"We don't know."
"The handwriting appears to belong to a young child."
"It could be years old."
"It could be recent."
"We're sending it for forensic testing."
Mark Davis, who had remained quietly near the doorway, finally spoke.
"I've heard those phrases before."
Everyone looked at him.
"At the Colorado house."
"He kept telling his son that privileges had to be earned."
"He believed comfort created weakness."
I felt sick.
"This wasn't discipline."
"No," Mark replied.
"It was control."
Just then, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number.
Ruiz frowned.
"Don't answer."
The call ended.
A second later, a voicemail notification appeared.
Then a text.
Check the security camera.
No name.
No explanation.
Just those five words.
Ruiz looked at the message.
"Did you install cameras?"
"Only the doorbell camera."
"What about inside?"
I frowned.
"No."
She exchanged a look with another officer.
"We'll check."
Twenty minutes later, Detective Ruiz's phone rang.
She answered immediately.
"Ruiz."
She listened without speaking.
Then her face changed.
"What?"
The room fell silent.
When she hung up, she looked directly at me.
"There were cameras."
"I told you—"
"They weren't yours."
She took a slow breath.
"Our forensic team found four miniature hidden cameras."
"One in the living room."
"One in the hallway."
"One outside Addie's bedroom."
"And one..."
She hesitated.
"In your bedroom."
I stared at her.
Luke had been watching us.
Inside our own home.
For how long?
Before I could speak, another detective hurried into the room.
"We identified the notebook."
Ruiz stood.
"So quickly?"
"There was a fingerprint on the cover."
"Who?"
The detective swallowed.
"It belongs to Luke Carter's biological son."
Silence.
Then he added the sentence none of us were prepared to hear.
May you like
"The boy everyone believed disappeared..."
"...is still missing."
