Chapter 4 - Ash and Answers
Flames caught instantly on the dried cedar shingles of the wraparound porch. Acrid black smoke poured through the shattered patio doors, billowing across the ceiling like an encroaching storm.
"Mom, get up!" Lena yelled, coughing violently as the heat hit her face.
She dragged Eleanor to her feet. Together, they scrambled toward the basement door. Briggs was slumped halfway up the stairs, bleeding heavily from a shoulder wound. Coughing through her sleeve, Lena grabbed the officer’s utility belt while Eleanor took his uninjured arm, hauling him up into the smoke-choked hallway.
"The back... is cut off," Briggs wheezed, his face grey with blood loss. "Side garage... emergency release."
They stumbled through the laundry room, choking on chemical fumes that burned Lena's already compromised lungs. Eleanor slammed the manual cord on the garage door, rolling the heavy metal panel upward just as sirens began wailing in the distance. They dragged Briggs out onto the lawn, collapsing on the dew-soaked grass as the second story of the estate erupted in an inferno.
Fire engines and backup cruisers arrived within minutes, floodlights turning the night into day. Paramedics swarmed Briggs, stabilizing him before wheeling him into an ambulance. Detective Miller emerged from an unmarked squad car, his tie loosened, eyes wide with disbelief as he took in the raging fire.
"What happened here?" Miller demanded, crouching beside Lena as a paramedic draped an emergency foil blanket around her shoulders.
"Someone broke in through the cellar," Lena whispered, her voice hoarse from soot. "They shot Briggs. They took the security server, and they set fire to the house."
Eleanor sat several feet away, surrounded by another pair of officers, answering questions in a daze. Lena watched her mother intently. Was Eleanor really a victim, or was this whole house of cards falling because Eleanor’s part in the scheme had gone wrong?
Miller leaned in closer, his voice dropping so low only Lena could hear. "Your father just broke his silence in interrogation down at central. He claims he’s not the architect, Lena. He says he was protecting you from a pharmaceutical syndicate that Eleanor brought into their lives three years ago."
Lena stared at the detective, her heart hammering against her ribs.
May you like
Before she could process the accusation, Miller’s phone buzzed with an incoming alert. He glanced down, and his jaw tightened.
"The transport van carrying your father," Miller whispered, looking up toward the burning horizon. "It was ambushed five minutes ago on Route 9. Arthur Vance is gone."
