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In the wall is an opening, and inside…

Is nothing.

What the hell is this opening? Who opened it? And what, if anything, was inside?

I walk quickly toward the door at the end of the hallway. I pull the black platinum ring off my finger and line up the notches.

Nothing happens.

Good. That means no one has opened this particular door. Thank God.

What the hell was Cain talking about, then?

Maybe the compartment in the wall?

I’m flummoxed. Who put it there? And who opened⁠—

Delaney opened the door.

Yes. Cain must have meant the compartment.

I return to the place in the wall and shine the flashlight on my phone around the inside, checking every corner, every crevice.

“What the hell?” I pull at a charging cord. Nothing is attached to it, but it won’t budge. It must be wired into the building’s electrical instead of plugged into an outlet.

But why?

Something was here.

Something that could get Delaney killed.

Jesus Fuck.

“What the hell did you find?” I mutter.

I turn quickly and race back through the corridor. “Samson!” I yell. “Delaney!”

I move through rooms like a man looking for a body and hoping not to find one.

The study first. Papers scattered. Samson’s handwriting on a notepad. Numbers. Names. A half-finished drink on the desk.

The library next. No sign of anyone.

The kitchen is spotless but two coffee cups rest in the sink.

Two.

Samson and Delaney.

Or Samson and someone else.

I check the guest rooms. Empty. Beds made. Closets bare.

I call Samson again. Voicemail.

I call one of his security men. No answer.

Another. Nothing.