Chapter 8 - The Midnight Knock
The panic in Mom’s voice was real. There was no theatrical performance left in her; she was utterly terrified. In the background of the call, I could hear shouting, the crash of breaking porcelain, and Dad’s muffled, pleading screams.
"Julian!" Mom wept. "They know you took Evelyn! They saw the registration on your rental car! Arthur told them you had the papers! You have to run, or you have to give them what they want!"
The line abruptly went dead with the sickening crunch of a phone being smashed against the floor.
"Julian?" Grandma asked, her hands trembling as she looked at me from the sofa. "Who was that? What’s happening to Arthur?"
"Stay here, Grandma," I said, locking the suite’s interior door and grabbing my coat. "Lock the deadbolt behind me. Don't open this door for anyone except me. Do you understand?"
"Julian, I'm scared," she whispered.
"I won't let anything happen to you," I promised, kissing her forehead. "I'll be right back."
I stepped out into the carpeted hallway of the fifth floor. My mind raced. Dad had gotten tangled with loan sharks to fund his lavish lifestyle and cover his failed consulting firm. To save his own skin, he had thrown Grandma’s land to the wolves—and when I exposed the fraud and took the documents, he had pointed the wolves straight at me.
I pulled out my phone to dial 911, but before my thumb could press call, the elevator doors at the end of the hall chimed.
Two men stepped out. They weren't wearing holiday sweaters. Both were dressed in dark leather jackets, their eyes scanning room numbers with cold, calculated efficiency. The taller one had a scar cutting through his left eyebrow and carried a heavy wrench half-hidden inside his sleeve.
May you like
They spotted me standing outside room 512.
"Julian Miller?" the scarred man called out, his voice a low growl that echoed off the hallway walls. "Your old man says you've got some paperwork that belongs to us."
