Chapter 13 - The Former Chief
The heavy iron wrench gleamed dully in the fading twilight as the retired police chief, Marcus Vance—brother to the investigating officer currently holding Arthur—slowly stepped across the threshold of the boathouse. His boots clicked deliberately against the wooden dock, echoing off the rotting walls.
"Marcus," Elena whispered, pressing herself flat against the side of the sunken sailboat, her heart hammering against her ribs. "What are you doing here?"
Marcus stopped five feet away, a cold, humorless smile touching his weathered lips. He wasn't wearing a uniform anymore, but the authority in his posture was unmistakable.
"I'm cleaning up a very messy loose end," Marcus said calmly, raising the heavy wrench slightly. "Arthur was supposed to keep you two distracted with that ridiculous memorial service while I moved the boat to deep water. But old Arthur got soft at the end. He always did."
Clara stood atop the gunwale of the boat, holding the metal briefcase tightly against her chest. She glared down at the former chief with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You're the one who rammed my father's boat thirty years ago," Clara accused, her voice ringing out sharply in the enclosed space. "You and Arthur together."
Marcus didn't deny it. He shrugged casually, his eyes fixed on the metal briefcase in Clara’s hands.
"Your father was a stubborn fool, Clara," Marcus said smoothly, taking another slow step forward. "He found the ledger detailing the payoffs for the lake district zoning fraud. If that got out, half the town fathers—including my brother and me—would have spent the rest of our lives in a federal penitentiary. We had no choice."
Elena frantically searched the darkness around her for an exit, but the only way out was blocked by Marcus standing squarely in the doorway.
"You murdered him," Elena sobbed, her voice breaking. "And then you let us grow up thinking he abandoned us, while you lived here like kings."
"We didn't just let you grow up," Marcus corrected, his tone turning dark and threatening. "We funded this town. And we are going to keep it protected. Now, hand over the briefcase, Clara. Drop it on the floor, and step away from the boat."
Clara looked down at the metal briefcase, then back at Marcus. She slowly raised her right hand, pretending to slide the briefcase forward along the wooden gunwale. Marcus took the bait, stepping forward and lowering his guard for a split second as he reached out to grab it.
That split second was all Clara needed.
Instead of dropping the briefcase, Clara threw it with all her might straight into Marcus’s face.
The heavy metal case caught Marcus squarely across the bridge of the nose with a sickening crack, sending him stumbling backward off balance onto the wet dock.
"Run, Elena!" Clara screamed, leaping off the boat into the shallow water of the slip and grabbing her sister by the arm.
May you like
The two sisters bolted toward the open doorway, sprinting past the dazed former chief who was already struggling back to his feet, blood streaming freely down his upper lip.
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