Chapter 6 - Shadows on the Wall
Eleanor pressed her back against the dining room archway. Through the wide glass panes of the conservatory, the gray morning light was just beginning to seep through the rain-soaked sky, outlining two silhouettes. One was broad-shouldered and wearing a heavy tactical jacket—Marcus. The other was tall, slender, and standing with hands casually shoved into his pockets—Julian.
“She’s upstairs, Julian,” Marcus muttered, his voice a low rasp. “The car out back is still warm. We take her, grab the drive, and stage a breakdown on the turnpike. Nobody questions an accident in this weather.”
“No,” Julian replied, his voice laced with venomous disgust. “The old woman is a complication. If Eleanor opens her mouth, it raises questions. We make it look like a domestic break-in. Both of them. It’s cleaner that way.”
Eleanor’s grip tightened around the iron rod. Murder wasn’t an impulsive thought for these men; it was an itemized expense. They intended to butcher her and her daughter under this roof and paint it as a tragic burglary.
Julian turned toward the hallway, stepping over the shards of broken glass. Marcus followed closely behind. They were moving toward the main staircase.
Eleanor stepped out from the shadows directly into their path, the poker resting loosely at her side.
May you like
“You have five seconds to leave my property,” she said, her voice ringing clear and steady in the cavernous hallway.
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