Chapter 6 - Shadow in the Rain
The harsh white beam swept across the wet glass panels, missing Mark’s crouching silhouette by a fraction of an inch. He threw himself sideways through the open service hatch, tumbling onto the rain-slicked flagstones of the terrace just as a suppressed gunshot shattered the nearest pane into a thousand diamond shards.
Rain poured over him instantly, soaking through his green overshirt. Mark sprinted down the stone stairs into the sprawling labyrinth of the formal gardens. Behind him, the conservatory lights flared brightly, casting long, menacing shadows across the lawn.
He didn't head for his car; they would expect that. Instead, he made for the old stone boathouse beside the black waters of the estate's private lake. His father had kept an auxiliary generator and an old ham radio there, along with an ancient desktop computer used for marine weather tracking.
He slammed the boathouse door shut, throwing the heavy iron bolt into place. Water dripped from his hair onto the floor as he collapsed against the wooden workbench, gasping for air. His hands shook as he pulled the flash drive from his pocket. It had survived the damp.
He fired up the ancient computer, its cooling fan roaring to life with a high-pitched whine. He plugged the drive into the USB port. The screen flickered, prompting a six-digit decryption password.
Mark stared at the blinking cursor. What date would Elena have chosen? His birthday? Their anniversary? Neither worked; the screen flashed red with two remaining attempts. Then he remembered the sprig of rosemary tied with green ribbon—the Latin name Elena used to study in her botany journals.
May you like
He typed: ROSMARINUS.
The screen turned green. Folders materialized instantly, bearing titles of bank accounts, offshore registrations, and an audio file labeled: Lake_House_Recording_2016.mp3.
