Chapter 5 - THE PURSUIT IN THE STORM
The thunder cracked directly overhead, rattling the stained-glass windows of the foyer as Rachel sprinted down the hallway.
"Robert? You done in there? The Feds are already poking around downtown—" Marcus’s voice boomed from the front entrance.
Rachel skidded to a halt, looking frantically for an alternate exit. The front door was blocked. The main hallway was a dead end. But the kitchen led to the back patio, and beyond that, the thick woods bordering the suburban development.
She turned sharply, her sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor as she hurtled toward the kitchen.
"Hey! Who's there?!" Marcus shouted, his heavy footsteps pounding down the corridor in hot pursuit.
Rachel burst into the kitchen, the memory of the shattered yellow mug flashing before her eyes. She didn't hesitate. She threw open the sliding glass patio door, letting in a blinding wall of rain and wind, and plunged out into the darkness.
The cold downpour hit her like a physical blow, soaking her clothes instantly. She stumbled on the wet flagstone patio, nearly dropping the heavy ledger, but caught her balance and sprinted across the lawn toward the tree line.
"She's got the ledger! Stop her!" Robert’s voice screamed from inside the house, raw and desperate.
Rachel pushed herself harder, her lungs burning with the freezing air. She plunged into the dense thicket of oaks and pines at the edge of the property. The canopy of leaves offered some protection from the rain, but the ground was a treacherous soup of mud and fallen branches.
Behind her, she heard the crashing of heavy boots through the underbrush. Marcus was fast, a younger, more athletic man used to intimidation and physical enforcement.
Keep moving, she told herself, branches whipping against her face, scratching her cheeks. For Mia. For your father.
She scrambled down a steep ravine, sliding the last four feet on her backside through the slick mud. At the bottom, a shallow creek swollen by the heavy rains rushed past with a muddy roar. Without hesitating, Rachel splashed into the freezing water, wading across to the other side as the current tugged fiercely at her knees.
Climbing up the opposite bank, her foot caught on an exposed root. She went down hard, the heavy ledger flying out of her hands and splashing into the mud a few feet away.
Footsteps crashed down the ravine behind her.
"Got you now, you stupid bitch," Marcus panted, emerging from the tree line on the opposite bank, holding a heavy metal flashlight like a club. He spotted her in the dim light, a vicious grin splitting his face.
Rachel scrambled in the mud, her fingers frantically searching for the ledger. Her hand closed around the leather binding just as Marcus splashed across the creek, lunging toward her.
He grabbed the back of her wet blouse, hauling her violently to her feet.
Rachel didn't scream. She twisted around, her eyes fixed on his face, and jammed her elbow backward with every ounce of strength she possessed. It caught Marcus square in the solar plexus.
The big man wheezed, the air exploding from his lungs in a ragged gasp. He stumbled backward, losing his footing on the slick muddy bank, and slid backward down the incline, crashing heavily into the rocks at the edge of the rushing creek.
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Rachel didn't look back. She clutched the ledger to her chest, gripped the flash drives in her pocket, and sprinted up the embankment toward the distant lights of the main road, where she knew safety—and justice—was waiting.
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