Chapter 11 - The Midnight Warrant
By 11:30 PM, the rain had returned, drumming against the slate roof of the Franklin Road manor with violent intensity.
I sat in the high-backed leather chair behind my mahogany desk, the room illuminated only by the soft glow of a green banker's lamp. In front of me lay the signed decree of absolute divorce, waiting for my final signature in the morning.
The house was completely still. Marcus and his security detail were stationed across the perimeter, their infrared monitors sweeping the dark acreage.
My private line buzzed.
I glanced at the caller ID. It was Marcus.
"Yes, Marcus?"
"Mrs. Arden," his voice was tight, low, and unusually urgent. "We have an unauthorized vehicle approaching the secondary service gate at the rear of the property. It didn't use headlights."
I stood up, walking toward the heavy drapes of the library window. "Is it Grant?"
"No ma'am. It’s a dark gray sedan. Local plates. But there’s something wrong." Marcus paused, the crackle of a radio transmission bleeding through his headset. "The license plate returns to a rental fleet out of Memphis, leased four hours ago under Sabrina Cross’s name."
A chill ran down my spine. Sabrina wasn't running. She had doubled back.
"Do not engage until she crosses the inner perimeter," I instructed calmly. "Keep the cameras rolling."
"Understood, ma'am—wait." Marcus’s breath hitched sharply. "Ma'am, she’s not alone. There are three men exiting the vehicle. They aren't process servers. They’re carrying heavy tactical breaching tools and sidearms. They just cut the secondary power grid to the gatehouse."
The green banker's lamp flickered once, twice, and died.
The entire estate plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
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Downstairs, deep within the limestone foundation of the two-hundred-year-old house, the heavy oak doors of the service entrance shuddered under the violent, concussive impact of a battering ram.
Then, from the darkness of the hallway right outside my library door, the distinct, metallic *click* of a firearm chambering a round broke the midnight silence.
