Chapter 4 - The CliffI kept my eyes closed.
That may have saved my life.
Eric opened the rear door.
Cold air flooded the SUV.
I recognized the sound before I recognized the place.
Water striking rock.
We were at Northpoint Overlook, an isolated viewing area forty minutes outside the city where the road curved above a reservoir.
I had taken Lauren there once when we were dating.
We had watched sunrise from that cliff.
Now she had brought me back to die.
“Grab his legs,” Eric said.
Lauren didn’t answer.
“Lauren.”
“I heard you.”
They dragged me from the vehicle.
My shoulder hit gravel.
I forced myself to remain limp.
Every instinct told me to fight.
But Marcus was following.
Coleman was following.
At least, I hoped they were.
I had agreed to wear a small transmitter beneath my belt.
Rebecca had hated the entire plan.
For the first time, I understood why.
Eric pulled me upward.
“God, he’s heavy.”
Lauren whispered, “Keep your voice down.”
“Nobody’s here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I checked.”
That worried me.
Had he noticed Marcus?
Had Detective Coleman lost them?
I felt them dragging me toward the railing.
Gravel scraped my shoes.
The roar of water grew louder.
Ten feet.
Maybe fifteen.
Eric stopped.
“Phone.”
“What?”
“His phone. Give it to me.”
Lauren searched my jacket.
“Here.”
“Unlock it.”
“I don’t know the code.”
“You’re his wife.”
“That doesn’t mean I know everything.”
Apparently.
Eric swore.
“We need a message.”
“What kind?”
“Something depressed.”
Lauren became quiet.
“I don’t like this.”
I nearly opened my eyes.
Eric’s voice changed.
“You were fine with it yesterday.”
“I said we needed another way.”
“There is no other way.”
“We could make him sign.”
“He’ll fight the sale as soon as he discovers the transfers.”
“He hasn’t discovered anything.”
“You don’t know that.”
Silence.
Then Eric said, “You saw his text at the hotel.”
Lauren’s voice trembled.
“He said he meant the basketball game.”
“And you believed him?”
“He acted normal.”
“Daniel is an accountant. Acting normal while people steal money is practically his profession.”
Under any other circumstances, I might have appreciated the compliment.
“Eric, we can stop.”
“No.”
“We have enough money.”
“There’s never enough.”
The words told me something important.
Lauren was guilty.
But Eric was driving this.
Not that it absolved her.
You don’t accidentally help someone drag your unconscious husband toward a cliff.
Eric grabbed my jacket again.
“All we need is one push.”
That was enough.
I opened my eyes.
“You first.”
Eric froze.
Lauren screamed.
I drove my elbow into Eric’s ribs and rolled away.
He stumbled backward.
“What the hell?”
I rose too quickly, my legs slipping on loose gravel.
The tiny amount of bourbon I had tasted must have contained something stronger than the lab-tested tablets because my balance was wrong.
Eric recovered.
His face transformed.
No smile.
No charm.
Just rage.
“You son of a—”
He rushed me.
We collided beside the railing.
Lauren screamed my name.
Eric punched me across the jaw.
I hit him back.
He grabbed my throat.
We slammed into the metal barrier.
Below us, black water churned between rocks.
“You should’ve minded your own business!” he shouted.
“It is my business!”
He swung again.
I ducked.
His fist hit steel.
Before I could move, Lauren screamed.
“STOP!”
A gunshot cracked through the night.
Everyone froze.
Detective Coleman stood near the parked vehicles with her service weapon raised.
Marcus and two uniformed deputies were behind her.
“Hands where I can see them!”
Eric released me immediately.
Lauren collapsed onto the gravel.
For one wonderful second, I thought it was over.
It wasn’t.
Eric smiled.
Then he raised both hands.
“This is insane.”
Coleman approached.
“Get on your knees.”
“Detective, my business partner attacked me.”
I stared at him.
He continued with astonishing calm.
“We brought Daniel here because he was drunk and threatening suicide.”
Lauren looked at him.
Eric glanced toward her.
It was subtle.
A warning.
Coleman handcuffed him.
“You can explain downtown.”
Eric looked directly at me.
“You think you won?”
I wiped blood from my mouth.
“I think you’re wearing handcuffs.”
He smiled.
“So?”
At the station, the night turned complicated.
The transmitter had recorded much of the conversation.
But wind ruined sections.
The drink contained sedatives.
But proving who placed them there would take work.
Lauren refused to speak without an attorney.
Eric claimed the entire evening was a misunderstanding.
And then our corporate attorney, Martin Hale, arrived.
Not for me.
For Eric.
That answered one question.
Martin spent twenty minutes behind closed doors with detectives.
Then he came into the hall.
He looked exhausted.
“Daniel.”
“You forged my signature.”
His expression barely changed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Save it.”
“You should be careful making accusations.”
I laughed.
“You’re giving me legal advice now?”
“I’m telling you this situation is larger than you understand.”
“Then explain it.”
Martin glanced toward the cameras.
“Not here.”
He walked away.
At 3:40 a.m., Coleman found me sitting beside a vending machine.
“We have enough to hold Eric overnight.”
“And Lauren?”
“Likely conspiracy and attempted assault charges, but the prosecutor wants stronger corroboration before we make the final call.”
“My wife helped drag me to a cliff.”
“I know.”
The law was apparently more patient than marriage.
“What about the theft?”
“Financial team starts tomorrow.”
I rubbed my face.
Coleman sat beside me.
“You need somewhere safe.”
“I’m not going home.”
“Good.”
“Can I see Lauren?”
“No.”
I stood.
“Then I’ll leave.”
Coleman stopped me.
“One more thing.”
She handed me a photograph.
Security footage.
Someone entering Arthur Bell’s accounting office at 11:43 p.m. the previous night.
A hood covered most of the person’s face.
But I recognized the posture.
“Eric?”
Coleman shook her head.
“We compared the height.”
“Martin?”
“No.”
I looked closer.
Then my stomach tightened.
The person was shorter.
Female.
Coleman slid over another image.
The hood had shifted enough to expose part of the face.
Margaret Hayes.
Lauren’s mother.
“What was she doing there?”
“We don’t know.”
I immediately called Arthur.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
We drove to his house.
The front door was open.
Dining chairs overturned.
Papers scattered across the floor.
The metal lockbox where Arthur had placed my phone was gone.
Coleman drew her weapon.
“Arthur?”
No response.
We searched the downstairs.
Empty.
Upstairs.
Empty.
In the kitchen, I noticed a dark stain beside the counter.
Blood.
Not much.
But enough.
Then Coleman’s phone rang.
She listened.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She ended the call.
“A patrol unit found Arthur’s car.”
“Where?”
“Bus terminal.”
“Was he there?”
“No.”
My chest tightened.
“Then where is he?”
Coleman looked toward the blood on the floor.
“We don’t know.”
At 5:18 a.m., my own phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No voice.
Only breathing.
Then Arthur whispered:
“Daniel.”
“Arthur? Where are you?”
“I can’t talk.”
“Are you hurt?”
“They know.”
“Who?”
“All of them.”
“Arthur, tell me where you are.”
“I found the master ledger.”
I looked at Coleman.
“What ledger?”
“The one Eric doesn’t know exists.”
“What’s in it?”
Arthur breathed shakily.
“Everything.”
A noise sounded behind him.
A door.
Arthur gasped.
Then he said:
“Don’t trust Lauren’s father.”
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
In all the chaos, I had almost forgotten about one person.
Thomas Hayes.
Lauren’s quiet, agreeable father.
The man who rarely spoke at family dinners.
The man I had helped save from bankruptcy.
May you like
The man who supposedly knew nothing about business.
And suddenly, I wondered whether that had been the biggest lie of all.
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