Chapter 3 - The Broken Chef
The basement holding office was small, sterile, and cold. Chef Marco Rossi sat in a metal chair, his white chef jacket stained with sweat, his hands trembling violently as two armed guards stood behind him.
I walked into the room, tossing a thick dossier onto the table.
“Marco,” I said softly, leaning over the table. “Twelve years. You prepared Ethan’s first baby food. You cooked every meal for my family. Tell me why your keycard opened the cold room six minutes before my son was targeted.”
Marco broke down into hysterical sobs, burying his face in his hands. “Mr. Julian! I didn't do it! I swear to God I didn't poison the boy! I love Little Ethan like my own nephew!”
“Then explain the card swipe,” I demanded, slamming my palm flat against the wood.
“My card was stolen!” Marco cried out, looking up with bloodshot, terrified eyes. “Around 6:45 p.m., I left my jacket hanging on the hook outside the main pantry while I went to check the silver chafing dishes in the dining room. When I came back at 7:20 p.m., my keycard was missing from my pocket! I thought I lost it! I was terrified to report it to Arthur during the party!”
“Did anyone see you leave your jacket unattended?” Arthur asked, stepping up beside me.
“Yes!” Marco nodded frantically. “Mr. Gabriel was standing in the hallway outside the pantry! He was talking on his encrypted satellite phone... he was arguing with someone about money! He saw me walk toward the dining hall!”
I locked eyes with Arthur. Gabriel.
Before I could issue an order to fetch my brother, the estate intercom chimed with a high-priority red alert sound.
“Security clearance breach in sector two—Private Medical Wing.”
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My heart stopped. The medical wing was where Eleanor had taken Ethan and little Lily to keep them isolated and protected under guard!
I bolted out of the holding room, drawing my tactical sidearm as I sprinted up the concrete stairwell toward the second floor.
