Chapter 12 - The Iron Lockbox
Julian coughed violently, spitting a mouthful of ash onto the Persian rug as Arthur and two state troopers hoisted him away from the smoking stairwell. His beige shirt was scorched at the shoulder, and his face was smeared with soot, but he clutched the heavy iron lockbox to his chest with desperate, unbreakable strength.
"Julian? My God... they said you were dead," Elena wept, crawling across the floor to grab her younger brother’s sleeve. "The federal report said your car went off the bridge into Lake Michigan!"
Julian looked down at Elena with cold, bitter eyes. He didn't smile, nor did he offer any comfort. "The federal report said a lot of things, Elena, because Marcus paid a corrupt prosecutor to bury the investigation into my audit firm after I refused to sign off on his offshore shell companies."
Agent Miller stepped forward, his tactical gear dusted with drywall ash, and knelt beside Julian. He tapped the iron lockbox resting in the young man's arms. "Is that what I think it is?"
"It’s every encrypted hard drive, every wire transfer receipt, and every recorded phone conversation between Marcus Vance and the cartel lieutenants who funded his corporate takeover of this estate," Julian rasped, his voice raw from smoke inhalation. He looked up at Eleanor, his eyes welling with long-suppressed grief. "Where is Father? He was supposed to meet me at the sub-basement hatch ten minutes ago."
Eleanor’s face went completely bloodless. She stared down the smoking stairwell, where the flames were now licking hungrily at the base of the living room wall. "He didn't come out with you?"
Julian shook his head slowly, a tear carving a clean white track through the soot on his cheek. "The explosive charge went off right as he threw the security bolt from the inside to let me through. He pushed me into the escape tunnel and slammed the iron hatch shut before the second blast collapsed the ceiling."
Arthur let out a raw, guttural cry of anguish, dropping to his knees and slamming his fists against the floorboards. "No! No, we can't lose him again! Not after we finally got him back!"
Before anyone could stop him, Arthur grabbed a heavy wool blanket from the sofa, threw it over his head and shoulders, and lunged headfirst into the burning stairwell, disappearing into the thick, choking smoke.
"Arthur, get back here!" Agent Miller yelled, reaching out to grab him, but his fingers only brushed the empty air as the smoke swallowed him whole.
May you like
Elena screamed, burying her face in Julian’s shoulder as the state troopers scrambled to hook up a high-pressure fire extinguisher to combat the spreading flames. Eleanor stood like a statue in the center of the room, her gaze fixed entirely on the dark void of the stairs. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She simply reached down, picked up Thomas’s broken oak cane from the floor, and gripped it with both hands as the sirens outside wailed louder, signaling the arrival of the full county fire and rescue brigade.
---
