Chapter 9 - The Shot in the Dark
The sound of the gunshot vibrated through the chassis of the car, followed instantly by the sharp ping of a bullet ricocheting off the rear quarter panel. Elena screamed, throwing her hands over her head and sliding down onto the floorboards of the backseat, her green dress tangling around her legs.
"Get down!" David yelled, lunging across the console to push Clara’s head down against the passenger seat as another shot struck the driver’s side window, spider-webbing the reinforced glass without piercing it completely.
Clara didn't panic. Instead, she grabbed the heavy manila folder containing the trust documents from the floorboard where David had dropped it. "He’s warning us, David! He knows we’re here, but he wants the papers more than he wants our blood!"
"Stay in the car, Clara. I mean it," David ordered, his voice dropping into a dangerous, protective cadence. He pushed his door open, rolling out onto the wet gravel and using the heavy body of the sedan as temporary cover.
The rain soaked through his burgundy sweater in seconds, plastering the knit fabric against his back as the cold wind whipped off the ocean. He crouched low, his eyes scanning the dark silhouette of the boathouse pier. Through the sheets of rain, a figure stood on the wooden dock, holding a long-barreled hunting rifle loosely in one hand, the barrel pointed down toward the wet boards.
"Come on out, David!" Julian’s voice carried across the water, amplified by the wind but clearly dripping with mockery. "I know you brought the documents! Drop the bag on the gravel and walk away, or the little girl takes a very cold swim!"
David’s heart hammered against his ribs. He didn't have a weapon, but he had the element of surprise if he could use the shadow of the fuel tanks near the end of the pier.
From the passenger side of the car, the door clicked open. David turned his head sharply, his eyes widening in horror as Clara stepped out into the open, ignoring the rain, holding the manila folder high above her head like a white flag.
"I have the papers, Julian!" Clara shouted over the roar of the surf, stepping away from the shelter of the vehicles and walking deliberately toward the head of the wooden pier. "Let the baby go, and the papers are yours."
"Clara, get back!" David yelled, starting to crawl out from behind the car.
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Before he could reach her, the front door of the boathouse swung wide open, spilling a harsh beam of yellow light across the wet dock, revealing a sight that made all three of them freeze in absolute terror.
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