Chapter 7 - THE TARMAC
The police cruiser tore down the empty highway toward the private municipal airfield, its siren wailing. Emma was safely secured in the backseat of a second cruiser, accompanied by a female officer and a child advocate, heading straight to the precinct where she would be warm and safe.
I sat in the passenger seat of the lead car next to Detective Harris. My hands were finally steady. The fear was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, righteous fury.
“The airfield tower confirms a private charter is prepping for takeoff on Runway 4,” Harris said, listening to his radio. “They’re holding the pilot on the ground, but the suspect is already on board.”
“He won't go quietly,” I warned. “Michael’s arrogance won't let him believe he’s been caught.”
We smashed through the airfield's chain-link security gate at fifty miles an hour. Three other police cruisers followed close behind.
We sped across the dark tarmac, the red and blue lights reflecting off the sleek white fuselage of a Gulfstream jet idling near the end of the runway.
The cruisers swarmed the plane, boxing it in completely.
Officers poured out, drawing their weapons and aiming them at the cabin door.
“Michael Bennett!” Harris shouted through a megaphone. “This is the Columbus Police Department! Kill the engines and step out of the aircraft with your hands up!”
For a agonizing thirty seconds, nothing happened. The jet’s engines whined, as if the pilot was considering trying to maneuver around the cruisers. But the police had blocked the nose and the landing gear. There was nowhere to go.
Slowly, the whine of the engines powered down. The heavy hydraulic cabin door hissed and lowered to the tarmac.
Michael appeared in the doorway.
He was wearing an expensive Italian suit, his hair perfectly styled. He looked utterly bewildered, like a CEO whose meeting had been rudely interrupted.
Standing behind him, clutching a leather duffel bag to her chest, was Chloe. She looked terrified, her eyes darting between the police guns and Michael.
“Officers, there’s been a massive misunderstanding,” Michael called out, flashing his trademark charismatic smile as he walked down the stairs, his hands casually raised. “I’m a respected business owner. I have a flight to catch. Whatever this is about, my lawyers can handle it in the morning.”
Detective Harris stepped forward. “Turn around and put your hands on your head, Mr. Bennett.”
Michael scoffed, lowering his arms indignantly. “Are you out of your mind? Do you know who I am? I pay half the taxes in this city!”
I opened the passenger door of the cruiser and stepped onto the tarmac.
“You don't pay the taxes, Michael,” I said, my voice cutting through the cold night air. “I do. And I know exactly how much you stole.”
Michael froze. The arrogant smile melted off his face instantly. He stared at me, then at the blood on my jacket, and finally at the police surrounding him.
“Laura?” he stammered. “What… what are you doing here? Where’s Arthur?”
“Arthur is in an ambulance,” I replied coldly, walking slowly toward him. “Derek is in a holding cell. And your mother is currently screaming at a detective, throwing both of you under the bus to save herself.”
Michael’s face went completely white. He stumbled backward, hitting the railing of the plane’s stairs.
“No, no, no,” Michael stammered, shaking his head. He looked at Detective Harris. “She’s lying! My wife is unstable! She’s trying to ruin my company!”
I pulled the thick manila envelope from my jacket and tossed it onto the tarmac at Michael’s feet. The forged loan documents, the offshore bank routing numbers, and the letters from Derek spilled across the pavement.
“It’s over, Michael,” I said. “The $240,000. The forgery. The life insurance policy. It’s all right there.”
Chloe, standing on the stairs, looked down at the life insurance policy. Her eyes widened in horror.
“Life insurance?” Chloe whispered, looking at Michael. “You told me she was getting the house and the company in the divorce. You told me you were just taking your share!”
“Shut up, Chloe!” Michael snapped, panic completely taking over.
“You were going to kill her?!” Chloe screamed, dropping the leather duffel bag. It hit the stairs, unzipping, and thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills spilled out onto the tarmac.
“I didn't do anything!” Michael yelled frantically, holding his hands up to the police. “It was Derek! Derek forced me! He blackmailed me into taking the loan!”
“Tell that to the judge,” Harris said.
Two officers grabbed Michael, slamming him against the side of the plane and slapping the cuffs on him. He began sobbing, a pathetic, broken sound, begging them to call the mayor, begging them to call his lawyer.
As they dragged him away, Chloe was arrested for her role in the forgery.
I stood on the tarmac, watching the flashing lights, feeling the cold breeze against my face.
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The empire Michael had built on my back was completely destroyed.
But as I looked up at the stars, I realized something beautiful. He hadn't broken me. He had only set me free.
