Chapter 4 - The Uninvited GuestThe Oak Ridge Farmhouse was glowing with warm amber lights when I pulled my truck onto the gravel driveway at 10:00 p.m.
Dozens of luxury sports cars were parked along the manicured lawn. Music boomed through the open French doors, and the sound of clinking champagne glasses echoed across the dark valley. Claire was throwing a victory party for her executive friends from Apex Energy, celebrating the upcoming land closing.
I stepped out of the truck. I hadn't changed out of my dusty military combat boots or my camouflage uniform.
I walked up the front porch steps, pushed open the double oak doors, and stepped into the grand foyer.
The laughter inside the living room died instantly.
Twenty high-society guests in tuxedos and designer dresses turned to look at me. In the center of the room stood Claire, holding a glass of vintage champagne, standing beside a tall man in a five-thousand-dollar suit—Julian Croft, the regional Vice President of Apex Energy.
Claire’s eyes widened in disbelief, her hand trembling so hard champagne spilled onto her white silk dress.
“Daniel?” she stammered, trying to regain her composure. “What... what are you doing here? I told you to leave this property!”
Julian Croft stepped forward, puffing out his chest, adjusting his silk tie. “Sergeant, you are trespassing on private corporate property. I suggest you turn around before I have security throw you out.”
I didn't look at Croft. My eyes stayed locked on Claire.
“You threw my father into a chicken coop for forty-five million dollars, Claire,” I said, my voice echoing clearly through the silent mansion.
A collective gasp passed through the invited guests.
Claire’s face turned bright red with fury. “He’s lying! He’s suffering from severe PTSD! He’s crazy!” She turned to the crowd, waving her hands frantically. “Everyone, please ignore him! His parents are sick, and he’s projecting his anger on me because he can’t handle their care!”
“Is that so?” I asked softly.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out a small wireless projection hub, and set it on the marble center table. I pressed the power button.
A high-definition holographic projection lit up the white wall of the living room.
Audio blared through the house’s Bluetooth surround-sound system:
“If the old man doesn't sign the transfer forms by Friday, stop giving him his heart medication,” Claire’s voice echoed crisp and clear through the room. “We’ll just tell the sheriff he died of natural causes in his sleep.”
On the wall screen, a crystal-clear video played: Claire standing over my starving mother, laughing as she locked the heavy kitchen pantry door with a padlock.
The party guests backed away from Claire as if she were a venomous snake. Several women covered their mouths in horror; two executives immediately set their drinks down and headed for the front door.
“Shut it off! SHUT IT OFF!” Claire shrieked, lunging toward the projector.
May you like
I caught her wrist in mid-air with a grip of solid iron, holding her firmly in place.
“You told me my father’s security camera was broken, Claire,” I whispered close to her ear. “You forgot about the weather vane.”
Related Stories
