Chapter 7 - The Empty Safe
The word hung in the air like a physical blow. Agent Miller turned sharply away from Mark, barking orders into her shoulder radio as she sprinted toward the open double doors and out into the hallway.
Mark stood frozen near the ruined formal dining table, his heart sinking. He looked across the room at Clara. Her face had gone entirely bloodless, her dark eyes wide with a terror that had nothing to do with Arthur and everything to do with what was missing from that safe.
Arthur, currently being guided toward the exit by two officers, let out a raspy, victorious chuckle that echoed off the high ceiling.
“You thought you caught me?” Arthur rasped, glancing back over his shoulder with a chilling grin. “You caught an old man playing a distraction. The real evidence left this estate an hour ago.”
Mark ignored the patriarch, locking his gaze onto his wife.
“Clara,” Mark said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low pitch. “What did the officer just say?”
Clara slowly set Lily down onto a nearby chair, kneeling beside her daughter for a brief second to whisper, “Stay right here, sweetie, Mommy will be right back.” She stood up, her beige top trembling as she faced her husband.
“Mark, I can explain—” Clara started, backing away as Mark stepped forward.
“Explain what?” Mark interrupted, his restraint finally snapping. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers digging in slightly. “You told the feds you had the evidence! You told them you gave them the server locations! Where are the hard drives, Clara? Who took them?”
Martha dabbed at her dry eyes with a lace handkerchief, scoffing loudly from her seat.
“You really are as blind as your father always said you were, Mark,” Martha sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “You trusted the wrong woman all along.”
Mark dropped his hands from Clara’s shoulders as if he had been burned. He stared at his wife, searching her face for the woman he thought he knew, the woman he had loved and built a life with.
“Who took them, Clara?” Mark demanded, his voice breaking slightly. “Tell me the truth right now.”
Clara swallowed hard, tears finally spilling over her dark lashes. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, encrypted flash drive and holding it out on the palm of her hand.
“I did,” Clara whispered.
The dining room fell into an absolute, suffocating silence. The federal agents near the doorway stopped in their tracks, slowly turning back to face them with their hands resting on their holstered weapons.
“You?” Mark whispered, horror washing over him. “You took them? You’re part of his syndicate?”
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“No, Mark, I’m not part of his syndicate,” Clara cried, stepping toward him pleadingly. “I’m the one who blackmailed him into setting up the offshore accounts in the first place.”
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