Chapter 6 - Fourteen Minutes of Air
Aaron removed the brooch from the vault lock and examined it beneath the desk lamp.
The diamonds surrounded a silver center shaped like a flower. On the back was a narrow panel no larger than a fingernail.
“There is a storage chip inside,” he said.
Caroline searched the shelves.
“Can we copy it?”
“Not without the correct reader.”
The red light above us flashed.
Thirteen minutes.
Sophie sat beside Lucy, breathing too quickly.
I knelt in front of her.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
Her blue eyes filled with tears.
“I want to go home.”
“I know.”
“Is Preston going to hurt us again?”
“No.”
I said it with enough certainty that she believed me, although I had no idea how we would escape.
Aaron opened a maintenance cabinet.
“The vault has an emergency pressure release, but it was disconnected from outside.”
“Can you repair it?”
“I need access to the wiring behind that wall.”
Caroline helped him move a shelf.
Behind it was a narrow steel panel secured with four bolts.
Margaret’s voice returned.
“Twelve minutes, Evelyn.”
I approached the document slot.
“What guarantee do I have that you will open the door?”
“You have my word.”
“You arranged for my daughter to be framed and injured.”
“That was Preston’s poor judgment.”
On the other side of the door, Preston shouted.
“You told me to create a scene.”
Margaret’s voice became colder.
“Be quiet.”
For the first time, I heard tension between them.
I held the brooch near the slot.
“What did Thomas discover?”
Silence.
“What did you do to him?”
“He discovered that your father was not as innocent as he pretended.”
“What does that mean?”
“The Avery company was built using the same accounts you are calling criminal. Your father created the system. I merely improved it.”
Caroline shook her head.
“She is lying.”
Margaret heard her.
“Your father selected the first targets himself, Caroline. Widows with property. Families behind on taxes. Business owners who could be pressured into selling.”
I looked at the old ledgers.
Some entries carried my father’s initials.
He may have helped build the network before attempting to expose it.
Truth was becoming more complicated with every document we opened.
Aaron removed the wall panel.
A bundle of cables appeared behind it.
“Eight minutes,” he whispered.
I continued talking to Margaret to keep her attention away from the repair.
“Who edited my father’s recording?”
“Thomas.”
My hand tightened around the brooch.
“He believed you would forgive him more easily if you blamed me.”
“What had he done?”
“He worked for us.”
Sophie looked toward the speaker.
“No.”
Margaret laughed softly.
“Your husband provided access to Avery properties and financial records. When he tried to leave, he stole the brooch and hid the transaction copy.”
I remembered Thomas’s late meetings and unexplained absences. I had believed he was protecting our company.
Perhaps he had first been helping destroy it.
“Why was he killed?”
“I did not order his death.”
“Then who did?”
“Give me the brooch.”
Aaron touched two exposed wires together.
A spark lit the wall.
The ventilation fan turned for half a second, then stopped.
“Wrong circuit,” he whispered.
Six minutes.
Caroline looked through the ledgers and found a handwritten schedule.
“Evelyn.”
She showed it to me.
The night Thomas died, he had been scheduled to meet someone identified only as C.
Beside the letter was a phone number.
I recognized it.
It belonged to Caroline.
She stared at the page.
“I never met him.”
“Did he call you?”
She hesitated.
“Once. The night of the crash.”
My heart stopped.
“What did he say?”
“He asked where you were. I told him you were at home with Sophie.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
“Because Preston said the call would make the police suspect me.”
Preston had been controlling Caroline longer than I realized.
Aaron tried another cable.
The fan began turning.
Cold air entered the vault.
Sophie took a deeper breath.
Aaron smiled with relief.
Then the fan stopped again.
A voice came through the speaker, but it was not Margaret.
It was Judge Halbrook.
“Preston, the police have entered the property.”
Preston cursed.
Margaret said, “Activate the ballroom plan.”
Aaron looked toward me.
“What ballroom plan?”
A loud alarm sounded above us.
On the vault monitor, the ballroom camera appeared.
The wedding guests were still trapped inside.
Several of Margaret’s guards carried small black devices through the tables.
Aaron enlarged the image.
“They are fuel igniters.”
Margaret was preparing to burn Hawthorne Hall with everyone inside.
The records, the guests, and every witness would disappear in one disaster.
Caroline stared at the monitor.
May you like
“My wedding was always supposed to end in a fire.”
Continue to the next part: The Whitmores begin turning the ballroom into a crime scene meant to look like a tragic accident.
