Page 32 of Enduring Promise

The young man returned moments later, dragging the iron coat rack with him, its legs scraping against the polished wooden floor. Two other men stepped forward—both tall and broad-shouldered, their expressions resolute. Russ grabbed one end of the rack while the two men gripped the other.

“On three,” Russ said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “One... two... three!”

They surged forward as one, the coat rack slamming into the door with a deafening crash. The wood splintered slightly but held firm. The crowd pressed closer, their collective anxiety palpable.

“Again,” Russ ordered, his grip tightening.

The second impact was stronger, the sound even louder. This time, the door cracked, the ornate woodwork splintering near the frame.

“Almost there!” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Once more!” Russ barked.

With a final, thunderous crash, the door gave way, the lock snapping under the force. The coat rack clattered to the floor as Russ and the two men surged into the room, their eyes scanning the space for any sign of Claire. His heart sank. The library was empty.

The large bay window on the far wall stood wide open, its thick curtains swaying gently in the breeze. The soft rustle of fabric was the only sound in the room. The scattered books and an overturned chair suggested a struggle, but there was no sign of Claire or Michael.

“Claire!” Russ bellowed, his voice reverberating off the walls as the others fanned out, calling her name and frantically searching behind shelves and under desks.

He strode to the window in long, purposeful steps, his gut twisting as he peered outside. Below, the carefully manicured grounds stretched out in the moonlight. The drop from the window wasn’t impossible, especially with the thick bushes below that would soften the fall. The crushed foliage directly beneath the window confirmed it—someone had jumped.

“They went out the window,” Russ called over his shoulder, his voice firm but tinged with urgency. He turned to the growing group of people crowding the room. “We need to call the police. Now.”

A young man near the door, the same one who’d fetched the coat rack, pulled out his phone and nodded. “I’m on it,” he said, dialing as he hurried from the room.

Another man, older with a sharp, commanding presence, stepped forward. “We need to lock down the property. Nobody leaves. Someone call to the security on the gates and make sure they’re locked down.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, and people began to scatter, their movements quick and purposeful. Some rushed downstairs to spread the word, while others headed toward the grounds to begin searching.

Russ turned back to the window, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sill. His mind raced with possibilities. Michael was dangerous, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t hurt Claire outright—not yet. He’d try to manipulate her, to keep her under his control. But the clock was ticking, and every second they lost put Claire in greater danger.

“Russ!” Hillary’s voice cut through the chaos. She pushed her way through the crowd, her face pale but her expression resolute. “What do we know?”

“They went out the window,” Russ said grimly, jerking his thumb toward the open frame. “The bushes below were trampled. It’s not a far drop. Someone’s already called the police, and we’ve got people locking down the gates and searching the grounds.”

Hillary nodded, her jaw tightening as she moved to stand beside him.

She placed a hand on Russ’s arm, her grip firm. “We’ll find her,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear flickering in her eyes. “You got up here as fast as you could.”

Before Russ could respond, a commotion in the hallway drew their attention. A young woman appeared in the doorway, out of breath but determined. “They’ve spotted someone running toward the lake,” she said quickly. “It’s dark, but they think it might be Claire and Michael.”

Russ didn’t hesitate. “Let’s move,” he said, already heading for the door with Hillary close on his heels.

The group moved as one, their footsteps echoing down the grand staircase and spilling out onto the estate’s sprawling grounds. He’d remembered his promise to Madame Fournier. When it was time to make Michael pay, she would be the one to collect.

CHAPTER 31

Hillary adjusted the beam of her flashlight as she jogged toward the stables, her heart pounding in her chest. Around her, voices called out Claire’s name, splitting the tense night air. Groups of people fanned out across the estate, some on foot, others on four-wheelers. The low rumble of engines added to the chaos as the search party scattered across the sprawling grounds. The flashlights cast long, shifting shadows, making the scene feel both frantic and surreal.

She caught sight of Madame Fournier standing near the stable entrance, her posture as composed as ever but her face betraying a flicker of fear. Hillary hurried toward her, dodging a cluster of partygoers who were gesturing wildly in another direction.

“Madame Fournier,” Hillary said breathlessly as she approached, “any sign of Claire?”

Madame Fournier shook her head, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond the stables. “Nothing yet,” she said, her voice tight. “But if I had to guess...” She hesitated, then turned to Hillary, her expression grim. “If it were me, I’d head for the woods. It’s the easiest way to lose someone.”

Hillary nodded, understanding the logic immediately. “The woods,” she echoed, glancing toward the dense line of trees that began just past the lake. “How much land do they cover?”

“Thirty-five acres,” Madame Fournier replied, her voice low. “They could be anywhere in there.”

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