Chapter 2 - The Stranger Henry Sent Wasn't a Bodyguard—He Was the Man Who Had Been Watching My Family for Three YearsSamuel cut through the rope with a small blade.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Then don't stand here.”
He led me deeper into the woods.
We moved quickly.
The headlights passed over the trees.
Voices followed.
“Spread out.”
“She can't have gone far.”
I recognized Edward's voice.
My own son.
Hunting me.
Samuel pulled me behind a fallen tree.
He crouched.
“Don't make a sound.”
I whispered:
“Who are they?”
“Your children.”
“I know that.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“I mean the men with them.”
“What men?”
“Private contractors.”
“For whom?”
“Not your children.”
I felt a chill.
“Then who?”
He reached into his jacket and handed me a photograph.
Howard Sterling.
My husband.
Dead twelve years.
He was standing beside a man I didn't recognize.
The photograph was dated two years after Howard's supposed death.
I stared.
“That isn't possible.”
Samuel watched me.
“You know the man next to him?”
“No.”
“His name is Victor Crane.”
I shook my head.
“He's been financing attempts to gain control of Sterling Industries.”
“Why?”
“Because your husband promised him something.”
I stared at the photograph.
“My husband had no control after his death.”
“He left instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“To make sure the company never passed completely to you.”
My heart tightened.
Howard had always resented the fact that I had built more than he ever did.
He had helped in the early years.
Then he became bitter.
He wanted recognition.
He wanted control.
When he died, I had believed we had made peace.
Maybe we hadn't.
Samuel looked toward the road.
“They're getting closer.”
“What do we do?”
“Keep moving.”
I followed.
After twenty minutes, we reached an old hunting cabin.
It looked abandoned.
Samuel unlocked the door.
Inside was a radio, medical supplies, bottled water, and a satellite phone.
I stared.
“You planned this.”
“Yes.”
“Henry knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he expected this.”
I sat.
“My children have been planning to kill me.”
“Yes.”
“Henry expected it.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he warn me?”
“He did.”
I frowned.
“When?”
“Your will.”
I looked at the sealed copy.
“What does the will say?”
“You should read it.”
I opened it.
My hands trembled.
The first page listed my assets.
Then came the clause.
No beneficiary may inherit if found to have participated in violence, coercion, fraud, or attempted murder against the testator.
I smiled.
“They're already disqualified.”
“Yes.”
“But they don't know.”
“No.”
“That's why Henry kept it sealed.”
Samuel nodded.
I looked at him.
“Who are you really?”
He sat opposite me.
“I worked for Howard.”
My stomach tightened.
“You were his security?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Investigator.”
“For him?”
“For the family.”
“What does that mean?”
“I was hired after your husband's death.”
“By whom?”
“Henry.”
I froze.
“To investigate Howard.”
“Yes.”
“What did you find?”
Samuel hesitated.
“Your husband's death wasn't natural.”
I stared.
“He had cancer.”
“That's what the doctors said.”
“What was the truth?”
“Poison.”
I felt cold.
“Who poisoned him?”
“We don't know.”
“But?”
“But whoever did it gained control of several trusts.”
I looked at the will.
“Howard suspected someone.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Victor Crane.”
The name again.
“Why?”
“Because Howard had discovered money moving through his accounts.”
“To where?”
“Sterling subsidiaries.”
I felt sick.
Howard had been investigating my own company.
“Did he tell me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He believed you were in danger.”
I stared.
“From whom?”
“Your children.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“He discovered Monica had been selling information.”
“Edward had been moving company funds.”
“And Brian had been signing documents.”
I closed my eyes.
My children had been stealing from me for years.
I had suspected something.
I hadn't known how deep it went.
Samuel continued.
“Howard planned to expose them.”
“And then?”
“He died.”
I looked at the fire.
“Victor killed him?”
“We don't have proof.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Because Victor is financing your children's attempt.”
“Why would he?”
“Because once you're dead, he can force them to sell.”
“Sell to him.”
“Yes.”
The headlights appeared again.
Samuel stood.
“They've found the cabin.”
“Then where do we go?”
He pointed toward a trapdoor.
“Down.”
We descended into a tunnel.
It led beneath the woods.
At the far end was a vehicle.
A black SUV.
Samuel opened the door.
“Get in.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere your children can't reach.”
We drove for hours.
At dawn, we reached a small coastal town.
A farmhouse waited on a hill.
Inside were two people.
Henry.
And Alice.
My stepdaughter.
She stood when I entered.
“Mom.”
I hadn't seen her in three years.
I hugged her.
“You knew.”
She nodded.
“Henry told me.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he said you needed to believe your children were harmless.”
I laughed bitterly.
“They aren't.”
“No.”
Alice looked at Samuel.
Then at me.
“Does the will really leave everything to me?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
“I don't want it.”
My heart tightened.
“That's why you're the right person.”
I looked at Henry.
“What happens now?”
He placed another folder on the table.
“Now we make your children believe the murder worked.”
I stared.
“We fake my death.”
Henry nodded.
“Exactly.”
I looked toward the window.
My old life was ending.
May you like
Not because I was dead.
Because I had decided to stop playing defense.
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