Chapter 6 - The Trap at the Ranch
Before they could leave for the corporate headquarters in Cheyenne, a sudden loud commotion erupted outside the front of the manor.
The heavy roar of multiple high-powered engines echoed across the snow-covered courtyard.
Grant rushed to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the great room, Willa right behind him.
Three luxury black sedans had pulled up past the security gates, blocking the main driveway. Out of the vehicles stepped six men in dark suits, accompanied by a man in a sharp tailored suit with slicked-back dark hair—Dr. Richard Mercer, Eleanor’s disgraced cardiologist.
Beside Mercer was Julian Harrison.
"He brought them here," Willa whispered, her eyes widening.
Grant pulled a heavy 9mm handgun from a concealed drawer beneath the kitchen counter, checking the magazine with a swift, practiced motion. "Stay inside, Willa. Sarah, lock the panic room doors."
"Grant, wait!" Willa caught his arm. "They didn't come here to fight. Look at what they're carrying."
Grant paused, looking through the window. One of the men was holding a legal document folder and a portable video camera on a tripod.
"He’s brought a private medical evaluation team," Willa explained quickly, her mind racing. "Julian knows he can't kill Eleanor now, so he’s trying to establish that you are 'unstable' and coercing Eleanor while she is mentally unfit! If Dr. Mercer signs an emergency psychiatric hold on you and claims you kidnapped your mother from hospice care, Julian gets temporary control of the estate legally!"
Grant’s eyes burned. "He’s trying to frame me as the one harming her."
The heavy front doors swung open. Julian walked into the great room, flanked by Dr. Mercer and two imposing security guards.
"Grant!" Julian announced loudly, his voice echoing off the stone walls as his cameraman began recording from the doorway. "This has gone far enough! You took our dying mother from her hospice care in the middle of a blizzard! You brought a disgraced, mentally unstable former nurse into our family home! I have brought Dr. Mercer and a court-appointed evaluator to assess the situation before you cause Mom any more physical harm!"
Dr. Mercer stepped forward, putting on a show of professional concern for the camera. "Grant, as Eleanor’s primary physician, I must demand that you reveal where you are hiding her. Her heart cannot withstand this trauma. You are acting under the influence of paranoia—"
"Shut your mouth, Mercer," Grant growled, taking two massive steps forward, his hand resting on the weapon behind his back.
"See?!" Julian shouted to the camera. "He’s violent! He’s threatening medical professionals!"
Willa stepped smoothly out from behind Grant, walking straight into the frame of the video camera.
"Dr. Mercer," Willa said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp, professional register that cut through Julian's theater like a scalpel. "According to the State Medical Board guidelines, section 4-B, a physician cannot perform an emergency psychiatric or medical evaluation if they have a direct financial conflict of interest with the patient’s estate."
Dr. Mercer froze, looking at Willa in shock. "Who are you to tell me—"
"I am Willa Vance," she declared, stepping right into Mercer’s face. "And twenty minutes ago, the State Bureau of Investigation logged the serum digoxin level of Eleanor Harrison at 4.8 nanograms per milliliter. They also logged the bank transfers between your brother-in-law’s pharmacy in Laramie and Apex Bio-Tech’s account in the Caymans."
Dr. Mercer’s face went completely grey. His knees visibly buckled. "What... what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about felony attempted murder of a corporate matriarch," Willa said coldly, leaning in close so the camera picked up every word. "And since you are currently on camera attempting to declare her son incompetent to cover up a poisoning, you are officially an active co-conspirator to capital murder."
The cameraman lowered his camera, looking terrified.
Julian’s face twisted into a grotesque mask of fury. "Turn the camera back on, you idiot!" he screamed.
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"It doesn't matter if the camera is on, Julian," Grant said, stepping up beside Willa, his towering frame dwarfing his brother. He pulled his satellite phone from his pocket and held it up. "Because the Sheriff and six state troopers just turned into the driveway."
Outside, the sudden, wailing screams of police sirens echoed across the snow.
