Chapter 4 — David climbs the stairs to investigate the second location — Then discovers a collection of missing kitchen utensils locked inside a closet
David let go of the paper.
He turned his back on the kitchen island and walked toward the base of the staircase.
The wooden steps groaned beneath his shoes.
Jessica stayed seated on the kitchen floor, her hands still trembling against her knees.
Chloe watched her father climb, her small fingers gripping the edge of the counter.
David reached the top landing of the stairs.
The upstairs hallway was quiet, lit only by the pale morning light filtering through the small window above the coat rack.
He walked past the guest bedroom door.
He walked past the bathroom.
At the very end of the hallway stood the narrow linen closet.
David approached the door.
He reached out and grasped the wooden knob.
He twisted it.
The knob spun freely.
The door remained firmly shut.
A thick brass hasp had been screwed directly into the wooden frame.
A heavy combination padlock secured the metal loop.
David gripped the cold metal lock in his palm.
He checked the dials.
They were set to three zeros.
He tugged on the padlock.
It held fast.
He pulled harder.
The screws in the frame groaned, but the wood held.
David looked down at the base of the door.
A thin sliver of light showed that the shelves inside were packed tight.
He stepped back and examined the door frame.
Scratch marks surrounded the screws of the hasp, as if someone had attacked the wood with a screwdriver in a frantic rush.
David crouched down.
He slid his fingers along the narrow gap between the floor and the door.
His fingertips brushed against a smooth metal edge.
He pulled his hand back and reached into his pocket.
He pulled out his keychain and selected the small utility blade.
He wedged the tip of the blade into the seam of the locked door.
With a sharp twist of his wrist, the latch gave a loud metallic snap.
The brass hasp ripped free from the splintered frame.
The closet door swung open by itself.
Dozen after dozen of missing kitchen utensils tumbled outward, spilling onto the hallway carpet.
Silverware sets, measuring cups, and stainless steel mixing bowls rolled in every direction.
Jessica called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“David? What did you find up there?”
David did not answer.
He stared into the dark interior of the linen closet.
Every missing utensil from the kitchen drawer was stacked neatly on the shelves, alongside rows of unopened containers and identical plastic bins.
David reached into the pile of spilled silverware.
His hand brushed against a small, black spiral-bound notebook tucked behind a stack of measuring spoons.
He pulled the notebook out into the hallway light.
The cover was blank.
He flipped it open to the first page.
Every inch of the paper was covered in frantic, overlapping handwriting that repeated a single phrase over and over again.