Chapter 7 - THE SMOKE IN THE DINING ROOM
The two officers drew their weapons, the rain slicking off the black metal of their barrels.
Maya screamed, throwing herself in front of me. "No! He didn't do anything!"
Grant, still gasping for air against the brick wall, stared in utter disbelief. He was finally seeing the true monster he had worked for.
"Get out of the way, little girl," the taller officer barked, aiming directly at my chest.
I gently grabbed Maya's shoulders and pushed her behind me. I wasn't going to let my granddaughter take a bullet for me. Not after I had just found her.
"You really think you can shoot an unarmed man in an alley and cover it up, Richard?" I yelled over the rain.
"I don't need to cover it up," Richard sneered, adjusting his umbrella. "You broke into my restaurant, assaulted me, started a fire to destroy my financial records, and then attacked two police officers while trying to flee. It’s a textbook tragedy. The media will eat it up."
"You're insane," I said, my hand slipping into my wet coat pocket, gripping the manila folder. The evidence was right here. If I died, the proof died with me.
"Shoot him!" Richard commanded again, his voice rising in panic as the wail of fire trucks grew deafeningly close.
The taller officer raised his gun, his finger tightening on the trigger.
But before he could fire, the alley was suddenly flooded with blinding, high-beam headlights.
A massive red fire engine roared around the corner, its horn blasting a sound so loud it rattled my teeth. The truck skidded to a halt, blocking the exit of the alley and trapping Richard and his corrupt cops.
A dozen firefighters piled out, shouting orders, dragging heavy hoses toward the smoking restaurant.
The two police officers instantly lowered their weapons, scrambling to look like they were securing the perimeter. You can execute a man in an empty alley, but you can't do it in front of an entire fire battalion.
Richard cursed loudly, spinning around to run.
But he didn't make it two steps.
"Stop right there, Bellamy!"
A fleet of black SUVs tore into the alley behind the fire truck. The doors flew open, and agents wearing FBI windbreakers swarmed the wet pavement, their weapons drawn.
Leading them was a stern-looking woman with a badge clipped to her belt.
"Richard Bellamy," she shouted over the chaos. "FBI. Put your hands on your head and step away from the umbrella."
Richard dropped the umbrella. It tumbled away in the wind. His arrogant posture finally shattered, leaving him looking small, wet, and pathetic in the rain.
"I didn't do anything!" Richard cried, raising his hands as two agents tackled him to the brick wall, aggressively slapping handcuffs on his wrists. "Those officers—they started the fire!"
The two corrupt cops tried to slip away into the shadows, but they were immediately surrounded and disarmed by the feds.
The lead FBI agent walked over to me. She looked at my soaked coat, the soot on my face, and the terrified girl huddled behind me.
"Are you Elias Thorne?" she asked.
"I am," I said, my voice hoarse.
She lowered her weapon. "We received a massive encrypted file dump at the field office thirty minutes ago. It contained dual ledgers, offshore account numbers, and a recorded confession from a Caroline Bellamy. The local police ignored her, so she came to us."
Caroline. Richard's wife had finally done the right thing.
I reached into my coat and pulled out the manila folder. It was singed at the edges but intact.
"I have the physical copies right here," I said, handing it to the agent. "And proof of extortion."
The agent took the folder, nodding grimly. "Paramedics are setting up a triage tent out front. Get checked out. Then we'll need a full statement."
I nodded, turning to Maya. She was shaking, but she offered me a brave, watery smile.
"Let's go find Leo," I said.
We walked around to the front of the restaurant. Bellamy House was a chaotic scene of flashing red lights, thick smoke, and shattered glass. The beautiful, pretentious dining room where I had been denied a glass of water an hour ago was now soaked in foam and water.
Sitting on the bumper of a parked ambulance, wrapped in a thick foil shock blanket, was a little boy.
He was swinging his legs, holding a cup of hot chocolate, and wearing a police officer's oversized hat.
"Leo!" Maya screamed, running toward him.
"Mommy!" Leo yelled, dropping the hot chocolate and throwing his arms around her neck.
I stood a few feet away, watching them. My chest ached with a profound, overwhelming love. This was my family. The family I had sacrificed fifteen years of my life to protect.
Maya kissed Leo's cheeks a dozen times before turning to me.
"Leo," Maya said, her voice choked with tears. "Look who I found."
Leo peered at me from beneath the oversized police hat. His big hazel eyes—Clara's eyes—studied my wet gray hair, my faded coat, and my soot-stained face.
He didn't look scared.
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the drawing. The one Maya had found in the safe. The stick figure of the tall man with the beard.
Leo looked at the drawing, then looked up at me.
"Are you my Grandpa?" he asked in a small, hopeful voice.
I dropped to my knees on the wet pavement, ignoring the pain in my joints.
"I am, Leo," I whispered, holding my arms out. "I'm your Grandpa Elias."
Leo didn't hesitate. He launched himself into my arms, burying his face in my neck.
I closed my eyes, holding him tightly, the rain washing away the last fifteen years of pain and isolation.
But our moment was interrupted by the shrill ring of Maya's cell phone.
She pulled it from her pocket, wiping her eyes to look at the screen. The color instantly drained from her face.
"It's the hospital," Maya whispered, her voice trembling with terror.
She answered the call, pressing the phone to her ear.
I watched her face. I watched the joy of our reunion turn into absolute horror.
"What do you mean she's gone?" Maya screamed into the phone. "She can't even walk!"
Maya dropped the phone on the pavement.
She looked at me, her eyes wide with panic.
"Elias," she gasped. "My mother isn't in her room. The nurses said a man in a charcoal suit came and signed her out an hour ago against medical advice."
My blood ran cold.
May you like
Richard Bellamy had been with the police an hour ago.
Which meant he didn't act alone. He had sent someone else to take Clara.
