Chapter 2 - SEVEN MINUTES
Victor held the crowbar loosely in one hand.
That frightened me more than if he had raised it.
People who wave weapons are often performing.
People who hold them casually have already decided they may use them.
Emily pressed herself against my back.
“Pop.”
“I’m here.”
Victor laughed.
“You always were dramatic.”
I kept my eyes on him.
“Put it down.”
“This is my property.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“The warehouse.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
His eyes moved toward the papers scattered across the concrete.
Power of attorney.
Beneficiary authorization.
Loan assumption.
Trust distribution request.
I had seen documents like those before.
Usually after somebody had already lost millions.
Laura stood near the wall.
She was pale.
“Daniel, please.”
“Please what?”
“Don’t make this worse.”
I looked at my daughter’s split lip.
“Define worse.”
Laura started crying.
Victor snapped:
“Stop.”
At her.
Not me.
Laura stopped instantly.
That told me something.
Emily whispered:
“He wants me to sign the transfer.”
“What transfer?”
Victor answered.
“Family business.”
I almost laughed.
“You tied her to a chair over a family business?”
“She became hysterical.”
Emily flinched.
I felt her hand close around my jacket.
Victor continued:
“She attacked Laura.”
“That’s a lie,” Emily whispered.
Laura looked away.
“Laura?”
Nothing.
Victor smiled.
“See?”
Three minutes.
My phone gave a faint vibration.
Signal received.
My team had the audio.
Victor noticed.
“What did you do?”
“Called for help.”
“You called police?”
“Among others.”
His expression changed.
For the first time.
Not fear.
Calculation.
He looked toward a steel side door near the rear of the warehouse.
I moved slightly.
“No.”
He smiled.
“You think you can stop me?”
“No.”
“I think the deputies coming up your driveway can.”
Silence.
Victor looked toward Laura.
“You stupid—”
He stopped.
Then raised the crowbar.
Emily screamed.
I moved.
Not toward him.
Sideways.
I pulled Emily behind a steel support column as Victor brought the crowbar down onto an old worktable.
Wood exploded.
“Daniel!”
Laura screamed.
Victor raised it again.
Then came the sound he had been trying to avoid.
Sirens.
Not one.
Several.
His face emptied.
Blue light flashed through the dirty warehouse windows.
Victor looked at the door.
Then me.
“You have no idea what you just did.”
I did.
I had made the situation public.
That was exactly what men like Victor feared most.
The pounding came thirty seconds later.
“SHERIFF’S OFFICE!”
I slid the bolt open.
Victor dropped the crowbar.
Too late.
The first deputies entered with weapons drawn.
I put both hands where they could see them.
Emily did the same.
Victor immediately started talking.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
Of course.
Laura started crying.
Emily said nothing.
One deputy looked at the rope on the floor.
Then at her wrists.
Then at Victor.
“Sir, turn around.”
Victor’s confidence finally fractured.
“You don’t understand who I am.”
The deputy said:
“Turn around.”
Beautiful sentence.
Victor was handcuffed.
Laura was separated.
Emily was taken outside.
Paramedics examined her.
Bruised ribs.
Split lip.
Wrist abrasions.
A mild concussion.
No broken bones.
Lucky.
My security-response liaison arrived several minutes later.
Marcus Reed.
Former Georgia Bureau of Investigation analyst.
Now director of crisis response for the forensic division I still owned.
Victor saw him.
His face changed again.
He knew the name.
Interesting.
Marcus came to me.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Emily?”
“Alive.”
That was the only word I could manage.
Marcus looked toward the warehouse.
“Documents?”
“Inside.”
“Don’t touch anything.”
“I know.”
Then he lowered his voice.
“Daniel, we got your live audio.”
“Good.”
“You need to hear something.”
“What?”
“The moment before deputies arrived.”
He opened his phone.
Victor’s voice:
“You have no idea what you just did.”
Then Laura:
“He’ll find the other accounts.”
I stopped breathing.
“What other accounts?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No idea.”
Laura had said it quietly.
Almost underneath the sirens.
Victor had answered:
“Shut up.”
Those three words changed everything.
Because now I knew the warehouse was not the beginning.
May you like
It was cleanup.
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