Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Sold His Sister
Julian had always seemed harmless.
That was his talent.
He was the charming uncle who remembered birthdays, donated to hospitals, and told self-deprecating stories at dinner. He wore soft cashmere sweaters and never raised his voice.
Now he held a gun on Vincent and Evan as calmly as if he were discussing wine.
“Come out, Claire.”
I stepped into the aisle.
Vincent’s face changed instantly.
“No.”
Julian smiled.
“She never listens to you, does she?”
“Leave her out of this.”
“She is the reason we are all here.”
“I don’t have the key,” I said.
Julian’s smile faded.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
He pointed the gun at Evan.
“Try again.”
My stomach twisted.
“The ring box was stolen.”
“Yes. By me.”
Of course.
Julian reached into his coat and removed the small wooden box.
He opened it.
The ring was gone.
Beneath the velvet lining sat a narrow brass key.
Evan stared.
“My mother gave me that.”
“She gave you many things she should not have.”
Hatred flashed across his face.
“You cut my brakes.”
Julian did not deny it.
“You weren’t supposed to leave the property that quickly.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“I tried to scare your father into giving me what I needed.”
“You’re insane.”
“No. I am practical.”
Vincent’s voice was ice.
“You betrayed Eleanor.”
Julian looked at him.
“My sister was idealistic.”
“She trusted you.”
“She was going to destroy everything.”
“What everything?”
“Our family. Arthur. The foundation. Hundreds of employees.”
“She was exposing crimes.”
“She was exposing a system.”
Vincent stepped forward.
Julian raised the gun.
“Do not.”
Vincent stopped.
I looked toward the altar.
“Where does the key go?”
Julian smiled.
“You’ll show us.”
“I don’t know.”
“Your father told you.”
My heart skipped.
“How do you know?”
“Daniel has never been as difficult to watch as he imagines.”
Fear flooded me.
“What did you do to him?”
“Nothing. Yet.”
I took a step forward.
Vincent said my name sharply.
Julian laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The way he says your name.”
His smile widened.
“I wondered how long it would take.”
“This has nothing to do with us,” I said.
“Everything has to do with weakness.”
He nodded toward Vincent.
“Arthur’s was control. Eleanor’s was conscience. Daniel’s was guilt.”
Then he looked at me.
“Vincent’s is you.”
The statement hung in the church.
Evan glanced at his father.
Vincent said nothing.
Julian motioned with the gun.
“Behind the altar.”
We moved.
There was an old wooden panel carved with vines and crosses. At the center sat a small brass plate.
A keyhole.
Julian held out the key to me.
“Open it.”
“Why me?”
“Because if it is trapped, I prefer you discover that.”
Vincent moved instantly.
“No.”
Julian swung the gun toward him.
“Another step and Evan watches you die.”
Vincent froze.
I took the key.
My hand shook as I inserted it.
The mechanism clicked.
A panel opened.
Inside was a narrow metal box.
Julian’s breathing changed.
“Take it out.”
I did.
It was heavier than expected.
“Open it.”
Inside were ledgers.
Photographs.
Flash drives.
Letters.
And one sealed envelope.
VINCENT.
His name was written in Eleanor’s handwriting.
Everything stopped.
Vincent stared at it.
Julian’s face drained.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You didn’t know that was there.”
“Give me the box.”
I pulled the envelope free.
Julian raised the gun.
“Claire.”
Evan moved.
It happened in less than a second.
He slammed his good shoulder into Julian.
The gun fired.
A stained-glass window exploded.
Vincent tackled Julian.
I dropped the box.
Papers scattered across the stone floor.
Evan kicked the gun away.
Vincent hit Julian once.
Hard.
Then again.
“Dad!”
Evan grabbed him.
Vincent stopped.
Sirens sounded outside.
Julian laughed from the floor, blood at his mouth.
“You called the police?”
Vincent looked at me.
I shook my head.
Evan lifted his phone.
“I did.”
For the first time all night, Julian looked afraid.
Police entered moments later.
As they handcuffed him, he looked at Vincent.
“You think this ends with me?”
Vincent said nothing.
Julian smiled.
“Ask your wife.”
The words cut through the room.
Vincent went still.
“What?”
Julian laughed again.
“Ask Eleanor who really killed Arthur.”
Then he was taken away.
We stood in the ruined church.
Evan looked at the scattered documents.
I held Eleanor’s envelope.
Vincent stared at it as though it might explode.
“Open it,” Evan said.
Vincent did not move.
“Dad.”
Slowly, he took the envelope from me.
Inside were six pages.
He read in silence.
By the second page, his hands began to shake.
I had never seen that before.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He looked at Evan.
Then at me.
“My father wasn’t poisoned by one of the Calder Ridge partners.”
“Then who?”
May you like
Vincent’s face had gone gray.
“Eleanor.”
