Chapter 13 - The Uninvited Specter
The tender moment was shattered by the sharp, urgent vibration of Daniel’s phone against the glass coffee table.
Daniel frowned, glancing at the caller ID before answering. “Investigator Dupont? What’s happened?”
I watched Daniel’s face as he listened. In a fraction of a second, the warmth and softness in his features vanished, replaced by an expression of cold, terrifying shock. He sat up straight, his grip tightening around the phone.
“When did this happen?” Daniel demanded, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp command. “...How many casualties?... What about the perimeter?”
My blood ran cold. I stood up, taking Leo into my arms and holding him tightly against my chest. “Daniel? What is it? What happened?”
Daniel hung up the phone. His face was pale, his jaw set in a hard, grim line. He stood up, immediately hitting the speed dial on his phone for the estate’s private security dispatch.
“Brandon was being transferred to the state maximum-security facility forty minutes ago,” Daniel said, his voice taut with suppressed alarm. “The transport van was ambushed on Interstate 80. A semi-truck rammed the escort vehicle.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Did he escape?”
“Brandon is in critical condition at the county trauma center,” Daniel said. “He didn't escape. But the people who hit the convoy weren't trying to rescue him, Clara.”
“What do you mean?” I whispered, a chill creeping down my spine.
“They were trying to silence him before he testified about the Panamanian offshore accounts,” Daniel said, stepping in front of me and Leo as the heavy estate sirens outside began to blare. “And Dupont found a burner phone left in the wreck. The last outgoing call was made from inside this county.”
Suddenly, the electricity throughout Vance Manor cut out completely.
The lights went black. The soothing hum of the climate control died. Only the dim, flickering orange glow of the fireplace illuminated the vast, shadowed room.
Outside, across the darkened grounds, the deep, frantic barking of the security dogs abruptly stopped.
A heavy, deliberate knock echoed against the massive oak front doors of the estate.
Daniel drew a concealed firearm from his holster, stepping between me and the hallway, his weapon raised.
May you like
From the shadows of the long corridor, a voice echoed toward us—calm, cultured, and chillingly familiar.
“Clara, my dear,” the voice purred through the darkness. “Did you really think your grandfather left that fortune completely unattended?”