Chapter 34 The killer is here
VICTORIA
I stared at the glittering black shoes, my throat knotting in horror.
I watched him raise his leg to take another step forward, but footsteps from the corridor caused his leg to freeze in the air.
This was my time to catch him red-handed, but instead of doing that, I cowered further back into the darkness.
His feet dropped, and he spun around, then walked out of the study.
I let out a gasp of relief and waited till my father walked in, took what he wanted from a drawer, and walked out again.
I slowly got up and began to crawl out of the back of the shelf, but paused when I hit my hand on the lower part of the shelf. I looked at my dirty knuckles and realized that instead of hitting books, I had hit a hard wooden surface.
I turned my head and hit my hand over the surface, brows raising in surprise.
There was a drawer at the back of the bookshelf.
I ran my hand over the drawer until I touched the keyhole on its side.
I reached into my pants pocket and took out my phone, then turned on the flashlight to examine the drawer and the place I was hiding.
The space between the bookshelf and the wall was covered in cobwebs and dirt. I scrunched my nose in disgust, but a worse feeling hit me when I glanced down at my body and realized that it was covered in dust, dirt, and cobwebs.
I cursed loudly and made to crawl out and get myself cleaned up, but stopped when I remembered the drawer.
I flashed the light towards the drawer and peered closely at the rusting keyhole.
There must be something in here that I didn't know about. And to find out what was in there, I had to find the key to the drawer.
I crawled out of the place and got up, then began to wipe away the dirt on my body.
After wiping off the dirt and cobwebs stuck on my dress, I proceeded with the search for the key.
I kept my mind off anything that would remind me of the killer who was just an inch away from me a few minutes ago.
I was more bothered about finding my mother's diary than going after someone I would not find.
I paused and headed to the window in the study. It overlooked the garden, making it easier for me to know who was missing and who wasn't.
My eyes darted to where my brothers were, but to my surprise, Mr Thompson wasn't there with them anymore. My heart began to race, and I felt my body heat up as a horrifying thought flew through my head.
“This is stupid, Veronica, it can never be him," I muttered and ran my hand through my hair, then let out a sigh before focusing on the garden again.
My eye traveled to where my father was, and I felt relief wash over me when I saw him with my father and uncles.
My lips twitched into a smile as I watched my father pat his shoulder and say something that made them all burst into laughter.
I darted my gaze across the garden and sighed when I saw that everyone aside me was there. I wondered if any of them noticed my absence. It was best they didn't.
I turned away from the window and went back to searching for the keys.
I looked through every drawer in the study, yet found nothing. As I searched the last drawer at the end of the table, my eyes caught a key hidden inside the drawer. Without sharp detecting eyes, one wouldn't be able to find the key in there.
“There it is!" I gasped loudly in relief and reached for the key.
I took it out then hurried to the back of the shelf.
I took a deep breath, turned on the flashlight on my phone, dropped to my fours and began crawling into the dirty space again.
I cursed loudly as my pants drew cobwebs and dust to themselves as I moved deeper into the place.
I paused in front of the drawer and slid the key in, but to my horror, it didn't fit in.
“Damnit!" I cursed and tried many times, but it still didn't work. That wasn't the right key for the drawer.
I gripped my head and dropped on my butt, groaning in disappointment and anger.
I felt sick. Sick that I kept failing, no matter how much I tried to make it work. I had searched everywhere in the study, yet ended up with a key that barely fitted in.
I sighed loudly and took the key, then crawled out of the space and began to trudge towards the desk. I slumped down into a chair and dropped my head on the cold desk, panting in tiredness.
Soon, the lunch would begin, and everyone would realize that I wasn't there with them.
The last place I wanted to be found was here, especially after what happened in the graveyard.
But I wasn't ready to give up either. If I couldn't find it here, then it meant my father wanted to keep away from every sight, and that alone proved that it had something to do with my mother and her life. Her diary.
I glanced at the bookshelf and began to take note of anything that could connect my mother to the drawer. As I thought deeper on this, it finally clicked.
The bookshelf was bought by my mother when she was still alive. I knew it from the designs on the sides of the bookshelf and the rotting wood due to how long it had been.
I got up from the chair and walked gingerly to the bookshelf, my eyes trailing over it.
My mom bought the bookshelf along with three books as a gift to my father on his birthday.
One of the books was a tragic romance, the other a crime thriller, and the third was a book about wealth and death, if I could remember clearly.
My father had placed it in the bookshelf and never removed it since then. I always remember him taking it out to run his finger over it and stare at my mother's autograph before placing it back.
He didn't let anyone else touch the books. But I would always sneak into his library at night to read the thriller book. Aside from my mother's death, that was one of the things that motivated me to be a detective.
My eyes flickered to the middle row of the bookshelf, and I found them, but to my surprise, only two of the books were there.
The dark romance and the book about wealth, the thriller book was gone.
I looked through every book that was there with the thought that he might have misplaced it, but I found nothing.
My head tilted to the side as my eyes darkened. If it wasn't here, it meant one thing.
My father knew about it. He knew exactly what killed my mother.