Chapter 11 - The Trunk
“Mark... did you hear that?” Eleanor whispered, freezing in her seat as another sharp rap echoed from the rear of the vehicle.
“Stay here in the front, don’t touch anything,” Mark instructed grimly, slipping out of the driver’s side door and stepping onto the shifting gravel of the driveway.
He walked slowly toward the back of the sedan, his eyes darting back toward the ruined remains of the house, which was now completely swallowed by the massive crater in the earth.
“Mark, please don’t open it, it could be unstable, it could be part of the collapse,” Eleanor pleaded through the half-rolled-down window, her face pale with dread.
“I have to check, El, we can’t just drive away if someone is trapped back there,” Mark replied, sliding the ignition key into the trunk lock with a steady, determined hand.
He turned the key, and the heavy metal lid popped open automatically, lifting on its pneumatic struts to reveal the dark interior of the cargo bay.
Lying curled up among the spare tire and emergency roadside gear was not Arthur Miller, but a pristine, modern laptop bag and a sealed manila envelope bearing Eleanor’s corporate law firm logo.
“What is that doing in our trunk? I left that in my office downtown this morning,” Eleanor gasped, stepping out of the car and walking up behind her husband.
“It wasn’t in your office, El... look at the return address on the envelope,” Mark said, lifting the heavy paper package and pointing to a wax seal stamped with the Sterling family crest.
“That’s my father’s personal seal... the one he used before he passed away last year,” Eleanor whispered, her breath catching in her throat as she reached out to touch the red wax.
“Open it, Eleanor; I think it’s time we found out why your family was so desperate to sell this specific property back to us,” Mark urged, sliding his finger under the heavy flap.
May you like
Inside lay a single flash drive and a handwritten note in her father’s familiar, elegant cursive script.
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