Chapter 3 - The Ambush in the Rain
I slipped out into the freezing deluge, vaulting over the low stone wall of the terrace. Brambles tore at my jeans, but the adrenaline numbed every sensation. I circled through the wooded perimeter of their neighborhood, my boots sinking into the sodden mulch, until I finally reached my parked car.
My breath came in ragged, burning gasps. I threw the decoy briefcase onto the passenger seat, locked the doors, and sped toward Mrs. Gable’s house.
"We have to leave tonight, Genny," I whispered to myself, watching the wipers struggle against the torrential downpour. I had the ledger. I had the forged paperwork. Tomorrow morning, Isold Mercer and the county district attorney would put an end to this nightmare forever. But we couldn't stay within a hundred miles of Harold Vance once he discovered his safe was empty.
Ten minutes later, I pulled into my own driveway. I ran inside Mrs. Gable’s house, thanked her hurriedly, and scooped up Genevieve.
"Are we going on an adventure, Mommy?" Genevieve asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she held her favorite stuffed bunny, Barnaby, under her arm.
"Yes, baby. A little road trip. Just you and me," I said, kissing her forehead.
I carried her out to our car, strapped her securely into the backseat booster, and closed the door. The rain was blinding now, whipping across the asphalt. I turned back toward the trunk to throw in our emergency overnight bags and grabbed the decoy briefcase from the front seat to bring it inside while I made one final check of the house.
Out of nowhere, high beams blazed down the narrow suburban street, roaring up our driveway at breakneck speed.
Tires screeched. A black SUV slammed to a halt behind my sedan, boxing me in completely.
The driver's door flew open. Harold lunged out into the storm. His face was contorted into a mask of pure, demonic rage, his slick gray hair plastered to his forehead. In his right hand, he wielded a heavy, rusted steel trench shovel he had ripped from his garden shed. Behind him, Evelyn scrambled out of the passenger side, her designer trench coat fluttering wildly in the gale.
"You miserable, ungrateful thief!" Harold roared, his voice cutting through the thunder. "Give us the $525,000!"
"Harold, stop! Genevieve is in the car!" I screamed, backing toward my trunk, shielding the vehicle with my body.
"You robbed my safe! You stole my life!" he bellowed, closing the distance in three violent strides. "That money belongs to this family! It belongs to me!"
"It belongs to your granddaughter! You’re drowning in debt, Harold, and I know everything!"
"Shut up!" he shrieked.
He didn't hesitate. He raised the heavy steel shovel with both hands and brought the blunt edge down with sickening, bone-crushing force directly across my left shin.
A loud *CRACK* echoed over the rain.
Agony, white and blinding, detonated through my nervous system. My leg folded beneath me, and I collapsed hard onto the flooded driveway. Rainwater flooded my mouth and nose as I gasped for air, clutching my splintered shin. From inside the car, Genevieve’s terrified, ear-piercing screams battered against the glass: *"MOMMY! MOMMY!"*
Evelyn walked up, stepping directly over my twisted, bleeding leg with her expensive leather boots. She snatched the leather briefcase out of my slackened hand.
"Stop being so melodramatic," my mother spat down at me, her eyes dead and cold. "You brought this on yourself. You always were an insolent little parasite."
"Evelyn, check it!" Harold commanded, his chest heaving, his shovel poised for another blow.
Evelyn rattled the locked clasps. "It’s locked, but it’s heavy. The banker’s drafts and the bonds are in here. Let’s go before the neighbors look out their windows."
Harold spat on the driveway inches from my face. "If you ever come near us again, you won't walk away at all."
May you like
They sprinted back to the SUV, threw the briefcase into the back, and peeled out of the driveway, their tires throwing muddy water all over my shivering, broken body.
They thought they had won. They thought they had secured their fortune. But as I lay half-submerged in the freezing rain, my trembling fingers reached inside my soaked winter coat, feeling the heavy, plastic-wrapped ledger and the forged master trust documents still pressed firmly against my ribs.
