Chapter 5 - THE COAT
Marcus stood perfectly still.
He was a large man, usually silent, who only answered to Victoria.
The gun in his hand didn't waver.
“Out,” Marcus ordered.
Julian stood slowly, keeping his hands visible.
I scrambled to my feet, slipping the bus ticket and the broken rosary deep into my apron pocket.
“Marcus, you don't have to do this,” Julian said.
“Move.”
He forced us out of the vault and marched us up the servant’s stairs.
We didn't go to the grand foyer.
He took us to the back of the house, toward the garage.
“Where is Victoria?” Julian asked.
“Ms. Sterling is handling family business,” Marcus said flatly.
He pushed us into the dark garage.
The security cameras were turned off.
My stomach twisted into knots.
He was going to kill us here.
“Marcus, listen to me,” Julian said, his voice urgent. “My father’s death wasn't natural. You have to know that. Victoria is using you.”
“I’m well paid to be used, Mr. Sterling.”
Marcus pointed the gun at Julian’s chest.
“Turn around. Both of you.”
I closed my eyes.
I thought of my small apartment. My quiet life.
I should never have opened that brass panel.
But just as Marcus raised the weapon, a loud SMASH echoed through the garage.
The side door flew open.
A heavy wooden snow shovel swung through the air and struck Marcus squarely in the back of the knees.
Marcus grunted and collapsed forward.
The gun clattered across the concrete floor.
I opened my eyes.
Standing in the doorway was old Mr. Henderson, the groundskeeper.
He had worked for the Sterling family for forty years.
“Run, Clara!” Mr. Henderson yelled.
Julian didn't hesitate.
He dove for the gun, grabbing it before Marcus could recover.
Julian aimed it at Marcus, who was struggling to his feet.
“Stay down,” Julian commanded.
Marcus stayed down.
Julian turned to the old groundskeeper.
“Thank you, Arthur.”
“Your father was a good man, Julian,” Mr. Henderson said breathlessly. “I knew that woman was poison the day he married her.”
I looked at the heavy winter coat Marcus had been wearing over his suit.
It was torn at the shoulder from the struggle.
I noticed something sticking out of the torn inner pocket.
I stepped forward and pulled it out.
It was a child’s drawing.
Done in bright crayons.
It showed a little girl with blonde hair holding hands with a man.
But at the bottom of the drawing, the little girl had written:
Please let me go home.
I showed it to Julian.
“Marcus isn't just security,” I whispered. “He’s the one holding Lily.”
Answer one: Victoria had used Marcus to kidnap her own daughter after Mr. Sterling hid her.
Open two: Why did Victoria want her own daughter locked away? What did Lily know?
Julian looked at Marcus on the floor.
“Where is she?”
Marcus smiled, a bloody, cruel grin.
“You’re too late. Victoria is on her way to the Willow Creek address right now. She’s going to tie up the loose ends.”
I touched the bus ticket in my pocket.
It was 10:30 PM.
The bus ticket was for midnight.
Victoria was going to kill Maria and Lily.
“We need my car,” Julian said.
We left Marcus tied up with heavy extension cords in the garage.
Julian backed his dark sedan out of the driveway, the tires squealing on the pavement.
We sped toward the edge of town.
“Why would a mother do that?” I asked as the streetlights blurred past us. “Why kidnap her own child?”
Julian gripped the steering wheel.
“Because twelve years ago, my father’s first wife—my mother—was murdered in a hit-and-run.”
I stared at him.
“The police never found the driver,” Julian said, his voice hollow. “A year later, my father married Victoria.”
The pieces fell into place with terrifying clarity.
“Lily was in the car with Victoria,” I breathed. “Lily saw Victoria run down your mother.”
Julian nodded.
“And my father finally found out.”
We swerved onto Willow Creek Drive.
It was a dark, isolated road lined with abandoned warehouses and cheap motels.
We found number 1402.
It was a rundown, single-story house with peeling paint.
May you like
Victoria’s sleek black luxury car was parked in the driveway.
The front door was wide open.
