Page 41 of When You're Forgotten
They turned away from the kitchen’s lingering tension, heading up the grand staircase once more.The gloom in the corridors pressed in, but at least they had each other.Finn knew there were police officers at the gates of the sprawling estate, but he hoped Rob’s reinforcements would arrive in the morning.
Upon entering Finn’s dimly lit room, Amelia exhaled heavily, scanning the plush bed and the small reading lamp on the side table.“At least there’s a lock on the door,” she said, crossing over to secure it.
Finn peeled off his jacket and draped it on a nearby chair.The tension in his limbs told him how physically and mentally exhausted he was.
A faint smirk broke across her face, though she tempered it, stepping to the bedside.She sank onto the mattress, letting out a tired groan.“This day felt like a week.”
“True.And we still have no real suspect pinned down.”He moved to the lamp, dimming it, letting the glow drop to a softer ambiance.“We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”
Amelia settled under the covers.Finn did the same, flicking off the overhead light.Darkness fell, relieved only by the faint glow of the small lamp.Outside, the wind sighed against the window.They both shut their eyes, hoping for a few hours of rest.
*
About 45 minutes later, Amelia’s phone pinged, echoing in the quiet.She jolted, rummaging on the nightstand.“That’s my email alert,” she murmured, sitting up.She tapped the screen and read, eyes widening.“Finn, the warrants just came through.The financial data on everyone in the house.”
Finn blinked away the fog of near-sleep, propping himself on an elbow.“Now?It’s nearly two in the morning.”
She nodded.“Yes, Rob must’ve pulled strings.Should we wait until morning or…?”
He exhaled, pushing off the blanket, and smiling knowingly.“I know you won’t be able to sleep.If we can find a lead, we might prevent more chaos.Let’s do it now.”
She agreed with a firm nod, swinging her legs out of bed.They pulled on their clothes and grabbed their phones.Finn unlocked the door, scanning the corridor for movement.It remained empty.Together, they headed out, footsteps muffled by the runner rug.The hush of the house deepened, and all that lingered was the distant howl of wind outside.
They made a beeline for the sitting room—their makeshift command center.On the way, a faint shuffle of footsteps made Finn pause.“Hello?”he whispered.No answer.He saw nothing but the staring eyes of several portraits on the walls.He exchanged a concerned look with Amelia, who shrugged.Possibly it was just the house settling.Finn preferred a mundane explanation to the alternatives.
Once in the sitting room, they shut the door and switched on a standing lamp.Amelia opened her laptop on the coffee table, quickly tapping through her email attachments.“Let’s see… everyone’s finances: Marianne, Richard, Jenna, Ms.Hughes, and so forth.But we mostly want James’s transactions first, right?”
Finn slid beside her on the couch, leaning to see the screen.“Yes.Let’s see if James was funneling money to an escort agency or someone else.If we find that, it’s a potential motive for murder or blackmail.”
Amelia nodded, scanning the lines of account statements.“So many entries… let me search for suspicious vendor names.”She typed a quick find function.Within seconds, a highlight appeared:Dream Meetings, Inc.
Her eyes lit with uneasy triumph.“There.A payment the night before he died.Let’s see if there are more.”She scrolled.“Yes, multiple transactions in the past six months, all spaced out by a few weeks.Fairly large amounts.”
Finn inhaled sharply, referencing his phone to look up the company.“I’ll do a quick search.‘Dream Meetings, Inc.’… Wait, there’s a mention in some online boards about them being an exclusive escort agency.High-end, hush-hush.”He whistled low.“James was consistent in booking them, then?”
Amelia closed the statement.“So it’s true.He was paying for escorts.If the last payment was the night before he died, maybe he expected someone to visit.Did that someone kill him or scare him to death?”
Finn nodded, his mind racing.“We should contact Dream Meetings in the morning.They might confirm if an escort came over that night or if James canceled last minute.”
She started typing notes into the computer.“Yes.Meanwhile, let’s see if there are other suspicious outflows.Could be hush money or blackmail payouts.”
Just then, a softcreakechoed at the door.Both froze, exchanging tense glances.Finn’s pulse sped up.Amelia set her laptop aside, the glow still illuminating spreadsheets.She pivoted in her seat, eyes pinned to the door.
Finn rose quietly, stepping over to the handle.Another faint scuff sounded as though someone outside had moved too quickly."Hello?"he said in a low tone, laying a hand on the knob.Instead of a reply, he heard brisk, retreating footsteps.
He yanked the door open, heart jolting.The corridor lay dimly lit by an overhead lamp, but a figure vanished around the far corner, footsteps echoing in flight.Without hesitation, Finn sprinted into the hall, calling, “Amelia, stay here!I’ll handle it.”
But Amelia was already behind him, phone in hand.“Let’s see who it is!”she whispered fiercely.
They dashed down the corridor, the shape darting further away.Finn recognized the swift, silent pace reminiscent of the masked figure from earlier.The person was running deeper into the mansion, not out.They passed a side corridor where faint moonlight from a window cast harsh angles on the floor.Rounding that corner, Finn cursed as the overhead lights flickered and then abruptly died, plunging them into darkness.
He skidded to a halt, disoriented.“Amelia!”he hissed, spinning back in the pitch black.“Amelia?”
No answer.He heard a strangled shout of his name—“Finn!”—from somewhere behind him, laced with alarm.A rush of dread crashed over him.He flailed a hand, trying to find the wall or anything solid, but found only emptiness.The corridor might stretch ahead, but Amelia’s voice sounded offset, as though she’d turned down an unseen passage.
“Amelia?”he called louder, chest tight.Still no reply.Fear coiled in his gut: had Wendell Reed really arrived, or the masked attacker who murdered Catherine?If they’d grabbed her in the darkness…
He clenched his fists, inhaling a ragged breath.The stark truth pounded in his skull: if this was Wendell or some equally dangerous figure, Amelia could be in immediate peril.Gritting his teeth, Finn forced himself to advance into the black hallway, trusting his memory of the floor plan.He had to find Amelia fast.He pulled out a pocket flashlight and sweeped around.
