Chapter 16 - The Siege Begins
Forty miles away. My children were alone in the lake house with armed men who took orders from Clara.
I sprinted down the stairs of the law firm, threw myself into my truck, and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The engine screamed as the tires smoked against the asphalt.
I broke every speed limit, weaving between semi-trucks on the interstate, my phone pressed to my ear as I dialed Marcus’s direct line.
No answer. Straight to voicemail.
I dialed the home landline. Busy signal. The lines had been cut.
Heavy storm clouds had rolled over the Adirondack peaks, blotting out the late afternoon sun. By the time I turned off the highway onto the remote mountain pass leading to the lake house, a torrential rain was lashing against my windshield, the wipers struggling to clear the sheets of water.
The sun had set, plunging the dense pine forest into pitch-black darkness.
Two miles before the property, I killed my headlights, navigating the rutted gravel road by the faint glow of the parking lights. If the security team was compromised, arriving with sirens or high beams was a death sentence.
As I neared the entrance, I saw Marcus’s private security SUV parked across the access road.
The driver’s side door was wide open, swinging back and forth in the wind.
I rolled to a stop, grabbed my 12-gauge hunting shotgun from the locked rack behind my seat, loaded four shells into the tube with four crisp, mechanical clicks, and stepped out into the freezing rain.
The mud beneath my boots was slick with oil and rain. I approached the SUV, shotgun raised to my shoulder.
Inside, slumped over the steering wheel, was Marcus. A single, clean gunshot wound was visible behind his left ear. His service weapon was missing.
They had executed him hours ago.
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Whoever was inside my house with my children had been there all afternoon.
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