Chapter 8 - The Chase Along the Cliffs
The heavy brass key struck Margaret squarely across the cheekbone. She shrieked in pain and stumbled backward, clutching her bleeding face.
"Shoot them!" Margaret screamed hysterically. "Shoot them both!"
Marcus raised his weapon, but Julian lunged forward, tackling the massive guard against the stone sarcophagus. The gun fired into the ceiling, chipping marble that rained down like white dust.
"Emily, run!" Julian roared, wrestling Marcus for control of the weapon.
Emily clutched the leather ledger to her chest and sprinted out of the mausoleum into the damp ocean air. The fog had grown thicker, swirling around the cypress trees like ghostly ribbons. Behind her, she heard the sound of another scuffle, followed by a sickening thud.
Footsteps pounded on the grass behind her. It wasn't Julian—it was Marcus, bleeding from a cut on his forehead, his face twisted in ruthless pursuit.
"Give up, girl!" he bellowed. "You've nowhere to go!"
Emily ran toward the cliff path. Below her, the black waters of the Pacific churned violently against the razor-sharp rocks. Her breath tore through her lungs, her legs burning from exhaustion.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed the collar of her jacket, yanking her backward. Emily slipped on the wet grass, landing hard on the edge of the precipice. The ledger slipped from her fingers, sliding precariously toward the thirty-foot drop.
"Got you," Marcus growled, reaching down to pin her arms.
Out of the darkness, Julian appeared like a shadow, wielding a heavy iron branch from a fallen cypress. He struck Marcus across the shoulders with everything he had. The guard roared in pain, losing his balance, and tumbled over the rocky incline, sliding down into the thick brambles twenty feet below, groaning and incapacitated.
Julian fell to his knees beside Emily, breathing raggedly. "Are you alright?"
Emily reached out frantically, catching the edge of the ledger just before the wind sent it plunging into the abyss. She pulled it to her chest, trembling.
"Julian... look," she breathed, pointing back toward the lawn.
Sirens wailed in the distance. Blue and red flashing lights lit up the fog along the mansion's private road. Three California Highway Patrol cruisers, flanked by an unmarked sedan, were racing up the driveway.
"Who called them?" Emily asked, bewildered.
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"I did," Julian said, offering a weary smile as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Before we entered the tomb, I livestreamed Arthur's statement and Margaret's confession directly to the State Department of Justice. Arthur gave me the direct line to the Attorney General's special task force yesterday."
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