“Yes. But let me tell you something, once I learned who Gabrielle Morgan was, after she died, I did some digging into this transaction, looked at my old records, maybe learn why would she have sought me out. And one thing you should know, detective: James Morgan made a large amount of money from the GDA fallout too. Rumor was, back then, Morgan Foods would have collapsed without the windfall.”

39

“Who killed Claudia?” Val asked Bridget, then took a few cautious steps backwards.

Bridget stared at Val and then without warning placed each hand to her temples and shook her head violently back and forth in a no. Tears began to fall as she crumpled to the floor. “I was good. I was good,” she said over and over.

Val maintained her distance, completely lost for what to do next. “Bridget, yes you were good. Can you tell me what happened to Claudia?”

“She was bad. When you’re bad, you die.” Bridget stopped crying and hissed, “Or I’ll make you wish you were dead!” She started rocking back and forth. The way Bridget spoke… Val tried to understand it. It was as if Bridget was mimicking someone else’s words.

“Did you kill Claudia, Bridget?”

“No,” Bridget said, frightened, shaking. The rocking grew more intense.

“Did she kill herself?”

Bridget just shook her head quickly again, eyes wide, face pale.

Val sidestepped past Bridget and hurried to Claudia’s room. She had to see for herself. Val pushed the door open and looked inside, then slowly moved towards Claudia who was slumped on the bed. Her face was white and her mouth hung opened as if in a contorted scream. Vomit was on the floor. Val felt for Claudia’s pulse. It was no use. This woman had been dead for hours. More than likely poisoned. Val quickly moved to Claudia’s exterior bedroom door, the one that exited to the hallway. Dammit! It was locked. There’s no way out of the house of horrors.

Val quickly went back to Bridget and knelt down beside her, putting her hands on Bridget’s shoulders. “Bridget, listen to me, how do we get out of here?”

“We don’t,” Bridget said. “The door is locked. It’s always locked.”

Val looked at the elevator that had just taken her down from what was, she presumed, the attic. Val pointed at the elevator door. “Where does this go?”

Bridget just stared at Val with glassy eyes.

“Where does this go?” Val said again. This time stronger.

“From the top to the bottom with a stop here.” Bridget smiled.

“The bottom? The basement?”

Bridget nodded.

Val ran back to the elevator. “Come on, Bridget?”

“No,” Bridget said, frightened. She crawled back to the bed and grabbed the blanket, pulling it around her, holding it tight.