Chapter 4 - THE FIRE AND THE FRAUD
The roar of the chainsaw echoed off the high rafters, vibrating in my chest. Richard took a slow step forward, the spinning blade gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
“Richard, stop!” I yelled, backing up against the polished side of the Mustang. “You’re crazy! The police will find the offshore accounts. They’ll find Anna!”
“They won’t find anything if the barn burns down with the evidence inside!” he shouted back.
He didn't swing the saw at me. Instead, he swung it brutally into the side of a large, red plastic drum sitting a few feet away.
Gasoline poured out instantly, flooding the concrete floor in a pungent, shimmering wave.
My heart hammered against my ribs. He wasn't going to murder me directly—he was going to stage an accident.
“You think you’re so smart, Emily!” Richard yelled, tossing the chainsaw aside. It clattered against the floor, instantly shutting off. He pulled a silver Zippo lighter from his jeans pocket. “You think a piece of paper makes this land yours? My blood is in this dirt! You’re just the wallet!”
“You’re stealing from your own daughter!” I screamed, clutching Anna’s envelope to my chest.
“She’s a girl!” he spat with utter disgust. “She’s useless to this legacy. Tyler is the future. And Anna is the only woman who ever understood what this family requires.”
He flicked the lighter. A small orange flame illuminated his twisted, hateful face.
“Mommy?”
The small, terrified voice came from the hayloft above.
Richard and I both froze. I looked up.
Standing at the edge of the loft, clutching her stuffed rabbit, was Sophie. She had sneaked out of the house and followed us.
“Sophie, no!” I screamed, pure maternal terror overtaking me.
Richard stared at Sophie, then down at the lighter in his hand, then at the pool of gasoline spreading toward his boots. For a split second, I saw a flicker of hesitation. But it wasn't a father’s love. It was the calculation of a coward realizing there was a witness he couldn't easily explain away.
He closed the lighter with a sharp click.
“Get her out of here,” he growled, turning his back on us. “Take her and leave the property tonight. If you try to fight me for the trust, I’ll tell the police you’re the one who orchestrated the insurance fraud. My mother will back me up. You’ll go to prison, and I’ll get full custody of Sophie anyway.”
He walked out of the barn, leaving me shaking in the fumes of gasoline.
“Mommy, I’m scared,” Sophie whimpered, climbing down the wooden ladder.
I ran to her, sweeping her into my arms and burying my face in her shoulder. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. We’re safe.”
But we weren't safe. Richard was right. My name was on the trust. My money had paid the bills. On paper, I looked like the mastermind of a massive financial crime. If I went to the police without hard proof of his coercion and theft, he would destroy me.
I needed the real ledgers. I needed Anna.
I carried Sophie out of the barn. The farmhouse was completely dark, save for the porch light. Richard and his parents were inside, likely packing up their most valuable possessions in case I called the cops.
I buckled Sophie into the backseat of my SUV. “We’re going to go for a little ride, sweetie. Keep your seatbelt on.”
I drove away from the farmhouse, leaving the headlights off until we hit the dirt road leading to the north pasture. The property was massive, over three hundred acres of rolling hills and dense woods.
It took twenty minutes to reach the old hunting cabin. It sat in a clearing, isolated and completely hidden from the main road. A single warm light glowed in the window.
I parked the car, told Sophie to lock the doors and wait, and walked up to the cabin.
Before I could knock, the door opened.
Anna stood there. Up close, she looked older than her photograph, her face lined with a deep, perpetual exhaustion. She wore a heavy wool sweater and held a steaming mug of tea.
She looked at me, her eyes filling with a profound, tragic relief.
“You found the car,” she whispered.
“I found the car,” I said, stepping inside. “He tried to burn the barn down. He threatened to frame me for the fraud and take my daughter.”
Anna closed the door and locked a heavy deadbolt. She walked over to a small wooden table and picked up a thick, black leather ledger.
“This is everything,” Anna said, handing it to me. “Every forged invoice. Every transfer to the Cayman accounts. And the original life insurance policy with his forged signatures. It’s enough to put him in federal prison for twenty years.”
I took the heavy book. “Why are you giving this to me? He’s the father of your son.”
May you like
Anna’s eyes hardened, a fierce, maternal fire burning in them.
“Because Tyler isn't his son, Emily. And tonight, we’re going to take back everything that belongs to us.”
