Chapter 5
The knocking stopped for a moment, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the front porch boards. Sarah and David froze in the basement, exchanging a panicked look in the dim light. The ledger lay open between them on the workbench, a glaring accusation frozen in ink and paper. Upstairs, the front doorbell rang twice, its cheerful chime sounding absurdly out of place against the grim reality of their situation.
“Stay down here,” David whispered fiercely, his jaw tight. He quickly pushed the lid of the strongbox down, though it wouldn't lock anymore. He grabbed the ledger, rolled it up tightly, and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans, concealing it beneath the hem of his dark blue polo shirt.
“I’m coming up with you,” Sarah insisted, her voice firm. “This is my brother, David. I’m not hiding in the basement while Marcus confronts you on our doorstep.”
David hesitated, knowing arguing with her would only waste precious seconds. He nodded once. Together, they hurried back up the basement stairs and stepped into the quiet hallway. The front doorbell chimed again, longer this time, carrying a sharp note of impatience.
David walked briskly toward the front door, motioning for Sarah to stand just out of sight near the living room archway. He took a steadying breath, schooling his features into a mask of calm annoyance, and unlocked the deadbolt. He pulled the door open just enough to reveal the man standing on the porch.
Marcus Sterling looked every bit the polished corporate executive, even in casual weekend wear. In his mid-forties, with neatly combed silver-streaked hair and sharp blue eyes, he wore a crisp white collared shirt and tailored gray trousers. A faint, knowing smile played at the corners of his mouth, though his eyes remained completely cold.
“David, isn’t it?” Marcus said smoothly, his voice carrying the practiced confidence of a man used to getting his way in boardrooms and courtrooms alike. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced on a Saturday afternoon, but I believe your wife recently dug up something that belongs to an old friend of mine.”
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David didn’t flinch. He kept his posture relaxed, blocking the doorway with his broad frame. “I think you have the wrong house, Mr. Sterling. My wife was just doing some landscaping work in the front yard. There’s nothing here of yours.”
Marcus’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He took a deliberate step closer, looking past David’s shoulder into the sunlit foyer. “Is that so? Because the pile of fresh mud on your front step looks remarkably like someone was trying to bury a very old, very heavy metal box. And frankly, David, I’d rather not involve the local police in a misunderstanding about stolen property.”
