Chapter 1 - The Red Button
Adeline Boudreaux was two years and ten months old when she found Vincent Castellano bleeding behind his desk.
The door to his office was half open.
That was the first unusual thing.
Nobody left Vincent Castellano's office open.
Not Marcus Ellery, the head of security.
Not Vincent's younger brother, Anthony.
Not his sister, Sofia.
Not even Camille Boudreaux, Adeline's mother, who had worked inside the Castellano estate for nearly four years and knew which doors could be opened without permission and which ones were better treated like walls.
But Adeline didn't understand rules about powerful men and private rooms.
She understood that Uncle Vin sometimes kept peppermint candies in his desk.
She also understood that her stuffed green alligator, Albert, had been promised one.
So she pushed the door wider with Albert's nose.
“Uncle Vin?”
No answer.
Adeline stepped inside.
The afternoon sun poured through the enormous windows overlooking the lake, turning the polished floor gold. Spanish moss moved lazily beyond the glass. Somewhere outside, a lawn mower hummed.
Everything looked normal.
But the office smelled wrong.
Not like the cedar shelves.
Not like Vincent's bitter coffee.
Metal.
Rain.
Something sharp.
Adeline stopped.
Vincent sat behind his desk, but not the way he normally sat.
The most feared man in South Louisiana was slumped sideways in his leather chair. His expensive white shirt had gone dark beneath the hand pressed against his left side.
His face was gray.
For nearly two seconds, Adeline did nothing.
Later, Marcus Ellery would replay those two seconds in his mind more times than he could count.
A grown adult might have screamed.
A frightened employee might have run.
A security guard might have reached for a weapon before understanding what had happened.
Adeline simply stared.
Her small face tightened in concentration.
Then she dropped Albert.
She grabbed the visitor's chair.
The chair weighed more than she did.
She pulled anyway.
The wooden legs dragged across the Persian rug.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Adeline grunted with effort until she had moved it beside Vincent's desk.
She climbed onto the seat.
The black telephone was still too far away.
She stretched.
One sneaker lifted from the cushion.
Her fingertips touched the receiver.
It slipped from the cradle.
Adeline caught it against her chest.
There were six buttons beneath Vincent's private line.
One was red.
Three weeks earlier, Camille had shown Adeline a similar button in the staff kitchen after the toddler had become fascinated by the telephone.
“You don't push this one for fun,” Camille had told her.
“Why?”
“Because it brings security.”
“What's curity?”
“People who help when something bad happens.”
Adeline had considered this.
“What bad?”
“If somebody is very hurt and Mama isn't there, you press the red button.”
Now Adeline pressed it.
Once.
“Security.”
The voice belonged to Caleb Ross, a dispatcher in the west security room.
Adeline gripped the receiver with both hands.
“Uncle Vincent bleeding.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Uncle Vincent bleeding.”
The chair creaked beneath her.
“Mama said say where.”
Caleb's voice changed instantly.
“Where are you, sweetheart?”
“Office.”
“Mr. Castellano's office?”
“Yes.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Is anyone else there?”
Adeline looked toward the doorway.
“No.”
“Stay where you are. Don't touch anything. Help is coming.”
Adeline nodded.
“Come now.”
“We're coming now.”
She put the receiver down crookedly.
Then she climbed from the chair.
Behind the desk, Vincent moved.
His eyelids opened.
Barely.
“Addie?”
Adeline took two steps toward him.
Then stopped.
“Mama says no touching blood.”
Something almost like amusement passed across Vincent's face.
“Your mama is smart.”
“You need doctor.”
“I think you're right.”
His eyes closed.
Adeline's lower lip trembled.
Until that moment, she had been solving a problem.
Now she understood enough to become frightened.
She grabbed Albert from the floor and squeezed him against her chest.
Then another piece of her mother's teaching returned.
If someone was hurt and help was coming, stay close enough that the person could hear you.
“You gotta keep eyes.”
Vincent's eyelids fluttered.
“What?”
“Keep eyes open.”
Vincent Castellano had ignored federal investigators, rival families, politicians, lawyers, and men who had threatened to bury him.
But he obeyed the toddler.
Adeline sat cross-legged on the rug.
“I saw frog.”
Vincent breathed shallowly.
“A frog?”
“Green frog.”
“That's... exciting.”
“It jumped.”
“Did it?”
“Miss Clara screamed.”
Vincent's mouth moved faintly.
Adeline couldn't tell whether he was smiling.
So she continued.
“Frog went splash.”
“Smart frog.”
“Yes.”
She ran out of details.
So she started again.
“I saw frog.”
Three minutes and forty-seven seconds after Adeline pressed the red button, footsteps thundered through the corridor.
Marcus Ellery entered first.
Two security officers followed.
Dr. Lena Morales came behind them carrying an emergency bag.
Marcus stopped so abruptly the guard behind him nearly collided with his back.
Vincent Castellano was barely conscious behind his desk.
And sitting on the Persian rug a few feet away was Camille Boudreaux's toddler, calmly explaining the same frog story for the third time.
Dr. Morales moved immediately.
“Vincent?”
No response.
She knelt beside him.
“Marcus, ambulance. Now.”
“Already moving.”
“Tell them penetrating injury, significant blood loss, altered consciousness.”
Adeline looked up.
“Doctor?”
Lena glanced toward her.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“I called.”
Marcus stared at the child.
“You called security?”
Adeline raised one tiny hand.
Marcus's expression changed.
He looked at the phone.
Then at the chair she had dragged across the rug.
Then at Vincent.
“My God.”
Lena was already working.
“Everybody except Marcus out.”
The guards moved.
Marcus crouched in front of Adeline.
“Come with me, Addie.”
“No.”
He blinked.
“Sweetheart—”
“Uncle Vin needs eyes.”
Marcus swallowed.
“The doctor will keep his eyes open.”
Adeline considered Lena.
“You promise?”
Lena looked over.
“I promise.”
Only then did Adeline stand.
Marcus lifted her.
The moment she was in his arms, her bravery collapsed.
“Where Mama?”
“We'll find her.”
“I want Mama.”
“I know.”
Marcus carried her into the corridor.
His radio exploded with voices.
“North entrance secure.”
“Ambulance approaching Gate One.”
“Perimeter teams moving.”
“Mr. Castellano's brother is on the way.”
Marcus pressed his radio.
“Lock the estate down. Nobody leaves.”
A voice answered, “Copy.”
“And find Camille Boudreaux.”
There was a pause.
“Sir?”
“Find her.”
Marcus felt Adeline's fingers tighten around his lapel.
“Where Mama?”
He didn't answer.
Because something had just occurred to him.
Camille was never away from her daughter without arranging for another member of the household staff to watch her.
Yet Adeline had been wandering alone.
Marcus carried her toward the kitchen.
“Clara!”
Miss Clara rushed out.
Her face drained of color.
“Oh, Lord. Adeline.”
“Where's Camille?”
“I thought she was upstairs.”
“She's not.”
“I saw her maybe twenty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“Service corridor. She said Mr. Castellano had asked for coffee.”
Marcus stopped.
Vincent had not asked for coffee.
Marcus knew because he'd been with him less than thirty minutes earlier.
Vincent had dismissed the entire staff from his office wing before a private call.
“Who told Camille that?”
Clara shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Marcus's radio crackled.
“Mr. Ellery.”
“What?”
“We found Mrs. Boudreaux's service cart.”
“Where?”
“East stairwell.”
“And Camille?”
Another pause.
“No sign of her.”
Marcus looked toward the office.
Suddenly this was no longer just an attack on Vincent.
Someone had deliberately sent Camille toward his office.
Someone had separated a mother from her child.
And somehow, in the middle of it, Adeline had reached Vincent first.
The ambulance arrived eight minutes later.
Vincent was carried through the estate surrounded by paramedics.
Adeline watched from Clara's arms.
As the stretcher passed, Vincent's eyes opened.
His gaze found her.
For a second, the noise around him seemed to disappear.
Adeline lifted Albert.
“Doctor fix you.”
Vincent's lips moved.
Marcus leaned closer.
“What did he say?”
The paramedic shook his head.
But Adeline had heard.
She looked at Marcus.
“He said find Mama.”
Marcus's blood ran cold.
Because Vincent had apparently understood something the rest of them hadn't.
He wasn't worried only about surviving.
He was worried about Camille.
Thirty minutes later, the surgeons at St. Catherine's Medical Center were fighting to save Vincent Castellano's life.
At the estate, forty-two employees were being questioned.
Every gate had been sealed.
Every security recording was being reviewed.
And Camille Boudreaux was still missing.
Marcus stood inside the security room when a technician suddenly leaned toward one of the monitors.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“You need to see this.”
The technician replayed footage from the east hallway.
Camille appeared at 2:11 p.m., pushing her service cart.
She disappeared around the corner.
The screen flickered.
Then the timestamp jumped.
2:11:32.
2:12:19.
Forty-seven seconds were gone.
Marcus stared.
“Play it again.”
The technician did.
Same result.
Forty-seven seconds had been deliberately erased from the security system.
And whoever had erased them possessed administrator-level access.
Only five people on the entire Castellano estate had that authority.
Marcus was one.
Vincent was another.
The remaining three were members of Vincent's own family.
Marcus looked at the frozen screen.
The attack had come from inside the house.
May you like
And somewhere inside those missing forty-seven seconds was the answer to where Adeline's mother had gone.
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