Chapter 5
The headlights cut through the falling snow like twin surgical blades. The engine of Luca’s black sedan was still running, roaring loudly against the silence of the night. White steam billowed from under the crumpled hood. The driver’s door hung open on a shattered hinge, swinging slowly in the freezing wind. I stopped dead in my tracks. My breath came out in visible white clouds. “Mr. Moretti?!” I shouted into the biting wind. No voice answered. Only the howling of the winter gale through the pine trees. I clutched the tiny flash drive in my pocket. My fingers were already going numb from the cold. I forced my legs to move, crunching through the thick snow toward the crashed vehicle. Every step felt like wading through wet concrete. “Mrs. Moretti!” I called out again, scanning the dark perimeter of the frozen garden. “Please! Where are you?” No response. Only the ominous drip of warm engine fluid mixing with the white snow. I reached the driver’s side of the car. I grabbed the edge of the door and peered inside. The interior cabin was empty. The airbags had deployed, smelling strongly of burnt gunpowder and chemicals. The steering wheel was bent from the force of the impact. On the passenger seat lay Luca’s leather gloves and his heavy signet ring—the one he never took off. Panic gripped my chest like a vise. Where was Luca? Where was Teresa? And where was Sofia? I stepped away from the car and looked toward the old greenhouse at the edge of the property. The greenhouse structure was made of wrought iron and aged glass panels. A faint, yellow light glowed from inside. Someone was in there. I crept forward, staying low behind the snow-covered boxwood hedges. The cold bit through my thin blouse, but I couldn't feel it anymore. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping me upright. I reached the side of the glass structure. I pressed my back against the cold stone foundation and peered through a smudged windowpane. Inside the greenhouse, surrounded by dying winter ferns and orchids, stood Thomas. The attorney’s face was smeared with dirt and sweat. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore. In his hands, he held a heavy iron shovel. And right beside him, bound hand and foot with thick industrial zip ties, sat Teresa. The old woman’s head was slumped forward. A strip of silver duct tape was plastered across her mouth. “Mmm-mmph!” Teresa groaned softly, struggling against the ties. “Shut up, you old bat,” Thomas snarled. His voice lost all of its usual corporate polish. He sounded desperate. Unhinged. “Your son is currently bleeding out in a ditch two miles down the road, and your precious daughter is locked in a burning shed. Nobody is coming to save you.” My blood turned to ice. Luca was hurt? Sofia was trapped in a burning shed? I had the flash drive in my pocket. Whatever was on it, it must have been the ultimate proof of their crimes. Thomas jammed the shovel blade into the soft soil beside a large potted lemon tree. “Just a little deeper,” Thomas muttered to himself, digging furiously into the dirt floor of the greenhouse. “Just need to bury the old bitch where nobody will ever find her, just like we did with Catherine.” My ears rang.Just like we did with Catherine. So Thomas wasn't just an accomplice. He was the one who actually killed Catherine Moretti three years ago. And Vanessa was his partner. I pulled my phone out to call the police—then remembered the network had been jammed by Thomas's signal blocker. I was entirely on my own. I looked down at the flash drive in my hand. Then I looked around the snowy perimeter of the greenhouse. A heavy iron gardening rake leaned against the exterior wall. I reached out and grabbed it. My fingers gripped the wooden handle. I took a deep breath, fighting down the terror clawing at my throat. If I went in there, I might die. If I stayed out here, Teresa would die. And the truth about Catherine would be buried forever. I walked around to the heavy wooden door of the greenhouse. It was bolted from the inside with a sliding iron latch. I raised the heavy iron rake. And smashed the glass pane beside the door handle.CRASH! Glass rained down inside. I thrust my hand through the broken frame, sliding the interior bolt open. The door swung inward with a loud squeak. Thomas dropped his shovel instantly. He spun around, his eyes wide with shock. “You?!” Thomas roared. “You just don’t know when to die, do you, little maid?!” He lunged toward a heavy pruning shears resting on the potting bench. I didn’t hesitate. I charged forward, swinging the heavy iron rake like a baseball bat straight at his chest.WHAM! The metal tines struck Thomas squarely in the ribs. He let out a sharp gasp of air, stumbling backward into a rack of clay flowerpots.CRASH! Dozens of pots shattered into a thousand pieces around him. “Stay away from her!” I screamed, adrenaline flooding my veins. Thomas coughed violently, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He glared up at me with pure, unadulterated venom. “You think you’ve won?” Thomas wheezed, a sick grin spreading across his bruised face. “Check the front gate, little maid.” He reached into his pocket and pressed a small red button on a remote detonator.BEEP. A distant, thunderous explosion shook the earth beneath our feet. Flames erupted into the night sky from the direction of the main mansion gates. CLIFFHANGER: The main entrance gates exploded into a wall of fire, cutting off all exits, while a convoy of three unmarked black SUVs tore up the driveway, surrounding the greenhouse with their high-beams blindingly bright.
