Chapter 19 - Return to the Crime Scene
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I parked the stolen truck two blocks away and approached my own house through the dense woods in the backyard. The grand, colonial-style home looked deceptively peaceful.
I slipped through the broken basement window—a flaw I had purposely left unfixed months ago. The basement was dark, smelling faintly of the expensive cigars Judge Reed had smoked down here. I moved silently, clutching a heavy iron crowbar I found near the workbench.
I approached the massive brick fireplace. Counting the bricks from the bottom—three up, fifteen across—I found the slightly discolored mortar. I wedged the crowbar into the gap and pulled with all my might.
The brick popped loose.
I reached my hand into the dark, dusty cavity. My fingers brushed against heavy, cold leather. I pulled it out.
It was a thick, black ledger book, wrapped in protective plastic. I cracked it open in the dim light. It was all here. The master encryption keys, the names of cartel bosses, the offshore routing numbers. The Holy Grail of the criminal underworld.
Footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor above me. Daniel was pacing in the living room.
I tucked the ledger into my coat, gripped the crowbar tightly, and silently walked up the wooden stairs.
I stepped into the living room. Daniel was standing by the window, a pistol in his hand. Lena's little girl was sitting on the couch, trembling, clutching a stuffed animal.
"Let her go, Daniel," I said, my voice echoing in the large room.
May you like
Daniel spun around, aiming the gun at my chest. He looked horrific. His expensive clothes were wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot, his arrogance completely stripped away.
"You found it," he breathed, staring at the bulge in my coat. "Give it to me."
