Chapter 9 - The Footsteps in the Foyer
The brass doorknob turned with a slow, deliberate squeak that made the hairs on the back of Sarah’s neck stand on end. She froze, one hand protectively shielding baby Lily against her chest while her other hand groped blindly along the mahogany dining table for anything heavy enough to use as a weapon. The police had left less than five minutes ago. Marcus had fled into the woods. Who could possibly be unlocking the front door with a key?
The heavy oak door swung inward, casting a long, skewed shadow across the imported tile of the foyer. A tall figure stepped into the dim light of the hallway, wearing a dark casual jacket over a crumpled shirt, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion.
"Connor?" Sarah gasped, the name rushing out of her in a breathless sob of disbelief.
Connor dropped his keys onto the small cherry-wood console table with a sharp clatter. He looked pale, the dark circles under his eyes bruised and deep, but as he turned his head and saw Sarah standing under the chandelier, a tired, genuine smile broke across his face. He crossed the foyer in three long strides, pulling Sarah and the baby into a fierce, suffocating embrace.
"They released me," Connor murmured into Sarah’s messy blonde hair, his voice thick with un-shed tears. "The federal prosecutor reviewed the digital files you sent through the secure link. Evelyn’s signature on the forged trust was flagged by the bank’s forensic software thirty minutes ago. It's over, Sarah. We won."
Sarah buried her face in the crook of Connor’s neck, letting out a ragged breath she felt like she had been holding for years. "It was terrifying, Connor. Marcus was here. He had a crowbar. Evelyn had a whole network of people protecting her."
Connor pulled back slightly, his hands resting on Sarah’s shoulders, his eyes searching her face with fierce tenderness. "She doesn't have anyone anymore. The bank accounts are frozen, the estate is under federal receivership, and my mother is sitting in a holding cell downtown waiting for an arraignment she can't bribe her way out of."
Sarah managed a weak, watery laugh, looking down at the ruined white celebration cake still smeared across the dining room floor. "Well, at least we don't have to worry about finishing the dessert."
Connor chuckled, kissing the top of baby Lily’s head as the infant stirred peacefully in her carrier. "We can order pizza. For the first time in our lives, we can eat whatever we want, wherever we want, in this house."
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He reached out to take Sarah’s hand, leading her away from the haunting reminders of the dining room toward the warm, quiet glow of the kitchen. But as they turned their backs on the grand foyer, neither of them noticed the small, red indicator light blinking furiously from inside the cherry-wood console table where Connor had just tossed his keys.
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