Chapter 6 - THE CORNERED RAT
I stared at the glowing screen of my phone, the security footage illuminating my face in the dark driveway.
My attorney, Marcus, was standing by the main gate in a heavy trench coat, accompanied by two men wearing windbreakers that clearly read FBI across the back.
“What is it?” Anna asked, coming up behind me.
“My lawyer is here,” I said, a sense of profound relief washing over me, quickly followed by a spike of panic. “I asked him to look into the lease earlier this week. He must have pulled the property records and seen the red flags. He brought the authorities.”
“We have to get to the house before Richard realizes they’re here,” Anna said, her voice tight. “If Richard feels cornered, he’s dangerous.”
I ran to my SUV, where Sophie was safely locked inside, listening to music on her headphones. I tapped the window, gave her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up, and told Anna to follow me in her truck.
We tore across the dirt roads of the north pasture, the headlights cutting through the dense Tennessee woods. By the time we reached the main farmhouse, the flashing red and blue lights of local police cruisers had joined the black SUVs in the driveway.
I slammed my car into park and jumped out, locking the doors behind me to keep Sophie safe inside.
Marcus saw me and immediately broke away from the agents, rushing over.
“Emily, thank God you’re alright,” Marcus said, gripping my shoulders. “When I saw the name Anna Bennett on that lease, I pulled the death certificate. It’s a known forgery. The FBI has been building a case on Richard’s offshore accounts for three months. They were waiting for a massive transfer to make the arrest, and he initiated it an hour ago.”
“He knows I found out,” I said rapidly, handing Marcus the heavy black ledger. “This is his shadow book. It proves he coerced Anna and stole from the trust. Where is he?”
Before Marcus could answer, a gunshot rang out from inside the farmhouse.
The sound shattered the night. The FBI agents instantly drew their weapons, taking cover behind their vehicles.
“FBI! Come out with your hands empty!” an agent bellowed over a megaphone.
Silence hung over the farm, thick and suffocating.
Then, the front door slowly creaked open.
Eleanor, my mother-in-law, stumbled out onto the porch. Her hands were covered in blood. She was weeping hysterically, her immaculate Thanksgiving dress ruined.
“He shot him!” Eleanor screamed, collapsing onto the wooden steps. “Richard shot his father!”
I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth.
Two agents rushed forward, pulling Eleanor behind the safety of a cruiser, while three others stacked up by the front door, sweeping into the house with their weapons drawn.
“Where is Richard?” an agent demanded, kneeling beside Eleanor.
“He went out the back!” she sobbed, clutching her chest. “His father tried to stop him from taking the money from the safe. He told Richard it was over, that he was ruining the family name. Richard just… he just pulled the gun from the desk and shot him.”
Anna ran up beside me, pulling Tyler into her arms and burying his face in her shoulder so he wouldn't see the blood.
“He’s headed for the airstrip,” Anna realized, looking at me with wide, terrified eyes. “The old crop-duster runway on the south field. He has a private pilot on retainer.”
“Agent!” I yelled, pointing toward the dark fields behind the house. “He’s going to the south field! There’s an airstrip!”
“We have a perimeter set, ma'am, he won't get far,” the lead agent said, speaking into his radio.
But as I looked out into the darkness, I realized the perimeter was at the main road. The airstrip was entirely contained on the property, and the plane could take off over the tree line without ever crossing a police barricade.
I didn't wait for the agents. I turned and sprinted toward my SUV.
“Emily, what are you doing?!” Marcus yelled.
“I bought this farm to protect my daughter!” I screamed back, unlocking the car door. “I am not letting that monster fly away with her future!”
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I jumped into the driver's seat. Sophie looked at me with wide, frightened eyes.
“Hold on tight, baby,” I said, slamming the car into drive. “Mommy’s going to stop a plane.”
