Chapter 4 - MY BROTHER’S CHOICE
Ethan brought the crowbar down.
I rolled aside.
Metal struck concrete where my head had been, sending sparks across the floor.
“Stop!” I shouted.
He swung again.
I caught the crowbar with both hands. The impact drove me backward, but I held on.
Ethan’s face was twisted with panic.
“You should have stayed out of this!”
“He tried to kill Dad.”
“You don’t understand what they’ll do to us.”
“Who?”
Ethan pulled the crowbar toward himself. We struggled, boots sliding across the flooded floor.
“Victor Hale’s son,” he said. “Caleb.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“The old man died years ago, but Caleb took over everything. Gambling, construction contracts, stolen equipment. He owns judges, doctors, cops.”
“Did he order you to drug Dad?”
Ethan’s eyes filled with tears.
“I owed him two million dollars.”
My grip tightened.
“How?”
“Sports betting. Then private games. Every time I tried to pay, the interest doubled.”
“So you sold our father.”
“I was trying to save Vanessa.”
“No. You were saving yourself.”
Ethan screamed and drove his shoulder into me.
We crashed through the maintenance-room doorway.
Cole had disappeared into the tunnel.
The gas continued spilling behind us.
Ethan released the crowbar and punched me.
The blow split my lip.
I struck his forearm, trapped his elbow and forced him against the wall.
He fought wildly, more frightened than skilled.
“You watched her beat him,” I said.
“I couldn’t stop her!”
“You could have called for help.”
“She said if the police believed he was unstable, we could control the estate and pay Caleb.”
“And when Dad refused?”
Ethan stopped struggling.
His silence gave me the answer.
Vanessa had attacked him to force compliance.
The false police report was supposed to complete the plan.
I loosened my hold.
For one moment, Ethan’s body sagged.
Then he pulled a folding knife from his pocket.
He slashed toward me.
I stepped back, but the blade cut through my jacket sleeve.
I struck his wrist against the wall.
The knife dropped.
Ethan lunged for it.
Dad’s cane appeared from the darkness and swept Ethan’s legs out from under him.
My brother hit the floor.
Dad stood behind him, supported by one of the detectives.
His face showed pain, but his voice was steady.
“That is enough.”
Ethan stared up at him.
“Dad…”
“Don’t call me that while you’re holding a knife against your sister.”
The second detective emerged from the drainage passage and placed Ethan in handcuffs.
My brother began crying.
Not the dramatic tears Vanessa had performed.
These were ugly, frightened sobs.
“They’ll kill me.”
“Then help us stop them,” I said.
He shook his head.
“You can’t stop Caleb Hale.”
A gunshot echoed deeper inside the quarry.
The detective’s radio came alive.
Officers outside had seen two vehicles leaving the northern access road.
Cole was escaping.
We hurried through the tunnel, leaving one detective to escort Ethan and Dad toward the entrance.
I followed the other detective through an alternate passage.
The tunnel opened into a loading chamber filled with rusted carts and conveyor equipment.
Cole climbed into a dark SUV parked beneath a broken loading platform.
A second man sat behind the wheel.
“Police!” the detective shouted.
The SUV accelerated.
It struck an empty ore cart, sending it rolling toward us.
The detective jumped aside.
I climbed onto the loading platform as the vehicle passed beneath it.
Then I jumped.
I landed on the SUV’s roof.
The impact knocked the air from my lungs.
Cole looked up through the sunroof.
“What the—”
I gripped the roof rails as the SUV raced into the open quarry.
The driver swerved violently, trying to throw me off.
Red cliffs blurred on both sides.
I crawled toward the windshield.
Cole reached through the sunroof and grabbed my coat.
He pulled.
My chest struck the roof.
I drove my elbow into his forearm.
He released me, then produced a small pistol.
Before he could aim, the SUV hit a deep rut.
The weapon flew from his hand.
The driver steered toward a line of abandoned concrete barriers.
At the last second, I jumped.
I hit the clay shoulder, rolled down an embankment and crashed into a shallow drainage ditch.
Pain shot through my ribs and shoulder.
The SUV clipped a barrier, spun sideways and slammed into an old loader.
Steam burst from the hood.
I forced myself up.
Cole climbed from the passenger side, limping.
The driver stumbled out through the opposite door.
He was a county deputy.
I recognized him from the station.
Officer Davis.
He raised his service weapon.
“Don’t move!”
I lifted my hands slowly.
“You helped attack your own station.”
Davis looked terrified.
“I was supposed to cut the power. I didn’t know they were bringing guns.”
Cole leaned against the damaged SUV.
“Shoot her.”
Davis’s weapon trembled.
I kept my voice calm.
“Cole will kill you next. You know too much.”
“Shut up,” Cole snapped.
“He left the truck behind with your blood and your phone records. He planned to blame everything on you.”
Davis looked at Cole.
“Is that true?”
Cole moved without warning.
He grabbed Davis’s wrist and turned the gun toward me.
I dropped.
The shot cracked above my head.
Davis and Cole wrestled for control of the weapon.
I rushed forward and drove my shoulder into Cole’s side.
All three of us fell against the SUV.
Davis lost his grip.
The gun slid beneath the vehicle.
Cole punched me across the jaw.
Davis tackled him.
They crashed into the clay.
Cole seized a fist-sized rock and struck Davis’s shoulder.
I caught Cole from behind and locked my arm across his chest.
He threw himself backward, crushing me against the SUV door.
My grip broke.
Cole ran toward the loader.
A helicopter appeared over the quarry rim.
State-police units raced down the access road.
Cole stopped.
There was nowhere left to go.
He turned toward me, breathing heavily.
“You don’t know who you’re fighting.”
“I know exactly what you are.”
He smiled.
“Then you know I’m not the one in charge.”
Officers surrounded him.
Cole raised his hands and surrendered.
Davis collapsed to his knees.
For a moment, I believed the nightmare was ending.
Then one of the officers called from inside the SUV.
“Agent Mercer, you need to see this.”
In the cargo area were dozens of folders.
Property records.
Medical evaluations.
Photographs of elderly victims.
And a large envelope bearing my name.
Inside was a surveillance photograph of me leaving my federal office.
Beneath it, someone had written:
REMOVE HER BEFORE THE AUCTION.
Attached was an invitation.
The event was scheduled for the following night.
Location: Hale Manor.
Item One: The Mercer Quarry Evidence.
Item Two: Daniel Mercer’s estate.
Item Three: Federal access credentials.
May you like
My brother had not merely betrayed our father.
He had offered me for sale.
