Chapter 3 - The Cellar Rescue
The estate’s cellar entrance was a heavy, slanted wooden storm door located at the rear of the kitchen garden. It was locked from the outside with a thick iron padlock.
I crouched behind a boxwood hedge, watching two armed men in dark suits standing near the back patio. They were hired private security—mercenaries Vivian had bought with money she had stolen from my military credit line.
I took a deep breath, fighting off a wave of dizziness caused by the thallium.
I needed a distraction.
I slipped back toward the garage, where the estate's main electrical breaker box was located. Using the heavy tire iron, I slammed the iron bar into the main conduit box.
Sparks erupted in a bright blue flash.
Instantly, the entire Bennett Manor went dark.
"What the hell?!" one of the guards shouted from the patio. "The power just cut!"
"Check the main breaker near the garage!" the second guard called out, pulling a flashlight from his belt.
As the guard trotted toward the garage, I moved through the shadows like a ghost.
I stepped up behind the second guard remaining near the patio, slamming the heavy rubber butt of the SIG Sauer directly into the base of his skull. He collapsed into the grass without making a sound.
I grabbed his key ring, sprinted to the cellar storm door, and shoved the master key into the heavy padlock.
The lock clicked open.
I threw the wooden doors back and descended the steep stone steps into the pitch-black basement.
"Samuel!" I whispered loudly into the damp air.
A faint groan echoed from the far corner behind the wine racks.
I clicked on my tactical flashlight, sweeping the beam across the concrete floor.
Samuel was tied to a wooden support beam with thick yellow nylon rope. His face was bruised, blood dripping from a cut above his left eyebrow, but his eyes were wide open and filled with shock when the light hit him.
"Ms... Ms. Claire?" he croaked, his voice raw. "Is that you?"
"Hold still," I said, drawing a tactical combat knife from my boot and slicing through the ropes in two quick strokes.
Samuel collapsed forward into my arms. I caught him, the weight of his body almost driving me to my knees in my weakened state.
"You came back..." Samuel whispered, weeping softly. "She... she took the files from the study, Ms. Claire. She hit me with an iron rod..."
"I found Dad's backup box in the greenhouse, Samuel," I told him, helping him sit up against the brick wall. "I have everything."
"She’s leaving tonight," Samuel warned, grabbing my forearm with surprising strength. "Vivian and Marcus Vance are flying to Switzerland on a private charter out of Norfolk Executive Airport at 2:00 AM. They have the forged legal documents to liquidate the entire Bennett Trust!"
I checked my watch: 12:45 AM.
"Who is Marcus Vance?" I asked.
"Your father's former wealth manager," Samuel explained, wiping blood from his eyes. "He’s been working with Vivian for ten years. He’s the one who set up the offshore accounts and provided the thallium through an illicit chemical importer in Baltimore!"
The puzzle pieces fell into place with sickening perfection.
It wasn't just a family betrayal. It was a calculated, multi-million-dollar criminal conspiracy involving my mother, her lover, a corrupt doctor, and a crooked banker.
"Can you walk, Samuel?" I asked.
"I can run if it means watching that woman go to prison," he spat.
"Good," I said, handing him the guard's dropped flashlight. "Take Dr. Whitmore's Audi parked on the logging trail. Drive straight to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service headquarters in Norfolk. Ask for Special Agent Robert Vance—he was Dad's chief investigator. Give him this encrypted USB drive."
Samuel took the silver drive like it was holy water. "What about you?"
May you like
I looked toward the heavy wooden ceiling above us, hearing the distinct sound of high heels clicking frantically across the hardwood floor of the foyer.
"I have a car to reclaim," I said coldly. "And a sister to educate."
