Chapter 10 - RAYMOND’S LAST GAMEThe explosion hit the opposite side of the warehouse.
Not close enough to kill us.
Close enough to create chaos.
Vincent immediately knew.
“Diversion.”
Dad grabbed me.
“Stay down.”
Smoke rolled across the loading floor.
Federal vehicles surrounded the building outside.
Men shouted.
Nobody knew who belonged to whom.
Dana stared at her phone.
Samuel had disconnected.
Grant yelled through the intercom.
“Grace, move to internal safe room!”
We ran.
Halfway there, a man in a federal tactical vest stepped from behind a printing machine.
“Detective Brooks!”
Dana raised her badge.
“Identify!”
He lifted his weapon.
Not toward Dana.
Toward me.
Dad shoved me aside.
The shot hit him.
“Dad!”
He collapsed.
Vincent fired twice.
The attacker fell.
I dropped beside Thomas.
Blood spread across his side.
“No.”
Dad grabbed my hand.
“Through.”
“What?”
“Went through.”
Vincent checked.
“Exit wound. He’s right.”
I pressed my hands against Dad’s side.
“You are not disappearing again.”
He tried to smile.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Dana called for medics.
Then every surviving monitor in the warehouse changed.
Raymond’s face appeared.
Of course.
He sat in an elegant room.
Fireplace behind him.
Glass of whiskey.
“Good afternoon.”
Vincent aimed his gun at the screen.
“Someday that will work.”
Raymond smiled.
“Vincent.”
“Where is Samuel?”
“Running.”
“Where are you?”
“Comfortable.”
Dana stepped forward.
“You gave Samuel our location.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To force him into the open.”
“You used us as bait.”
“Correct.”
I stared at Raymond.
“So everything was about exposing Samuel.”
“Not everything.”
“You still wanted the archive.”
“I wanted to know whether Ellen’s daughter was intelligent enough to use it.”
Vincent laughed.
“You’re insane.”
“Perhaps.”
Raymond looked at me.
“You passed.”
“I wasn’t applying.”
He smiled.
“Your father used to say things like that.”
Dad coughed from the floor.
Raymond’s expression changed slightly.
“Thomas.”
Dad looked toward the screen.
“Go to hell.”
“Eventually.”
Dana’s radio crackled.
Samuel had been spotted traveling toward Richmond Executive Airport.
She looked at Vincent.
“We can intercept.”
Raymond spoke.
“He won’t go to the airport.”
Dana turned toward screen.
“Why?”
“Because his aircraft is already gone.”
“How do you know?”
“I stole it.”
Vincent almost laughed.
Raymond continued.
“Samuel is heading to his contingency property.”
Dad whispered.
“Where?”
Raymond smiled.
“The Bennett house.”
My stomach dropped.
“Our old house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Ellen hid more than evidence.”
Dad looked confused.
“What?”
Raymond leaned closer.
“Thomas, did you never wonder why Samuel personally monitored your family after you disappeared?”
Dad stared.
“Because of the drive.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because he believed Ellen knew where the missing money was.”
Dad shook his head.
“There was no missing money.”
Raymond laughed.
“There absolutely was.”
Vincent frowned.
“How much?”
“Two hundred eighty million.”
Silence.
Dad looked genuinely stunned.
“I never moved that.”
“No.”
Raymond said.
“Eleanor did.”
Mara’s voice came through our remote channel.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
Raymond smiled.
“She stole from me.”
Mara whispered.
“Good.”
Even Vincent laughed.
Raymond continued.
“Eleanor moved the money into restitution accounts.”
Dana frowned.
“For victims?”
“Families. companies. employees. People harmed by the network.”
I thought of Mom’s recording.
The archive is not an inheritance.
Maybe the money had never been meant for us.
“What does that have to do with my old house?”
Raymond looked directly at me.
“Ellen hid the final transfer certificate there.”
Dad whispered.
“No.”
“She did.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Samuel tortured Caleb until he told him.”
Mara’s face hardened.
“Caleb?”
“Dead.”
She closed her eyes.
No grief.
Maybe she had already lost him years ago.
Dana looked at me.
“If Samuel reaches that certificate, he may access the funds.”
Vincent nodded.
“We go.”
Dad tried to stand.
I pushed him down.
“You go to a hospital.”
“No.”
“You were shot.”
“So were you once when you were ten.”
I stared.
“What?”
He blinked.
Then smiled weakly.
“BB gun.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
First real laugh in days.
Then I cried again.
Dad touched my hand.
“Go.”
I hated leaving him.
But for once, leaving wasn’t abandonment.
It was strategy.
Medics took Dad.
Vincent, Dana, Grant—who had arrived with a tactical team—and I drove toward the Bennett house.
My childhood home.
I hadn’t returned since Mom died.
The neighborhood looked smaller.
The maple tree taller.
Paint faded.
Someone had bought the house after foreclosure.
Vincent’s people evacuated the current family.
We entered through the back.
Nothing.
Then Grant pointed toward the basement.
I remembered Daniel’s words about their own mother.
Behind the furnace wall.
Maybe secrets liked basements.
We descended.
The old furnace had been replaced.
Behind it, fresh plaster.
Grant knocked.
Hollow.
Vincent broke through with a crowbar.
Inside was a metal lockbox.
I stared.
Mom.
Always ten steps ahead.
Dana opened it using a code from the archive.
Inside was a folder.
Transfer certificate.
Victim restitution trust.
Two hundred eighty million dollars.
A letter addressed to me.
Then someone cocked a gun behind us.
Samuel Brooks.
“Step away.”
Dana froze.
“Dad.”
He looked older than the photograph.
White hair.
Expensive coat.
Calm eyes.
The kind of man neighbors trusted.
“You shouldn’t have released those files.”
Dana raised her weapon.
“You killed Ellen.”
Samuel sighed.
“She forced a conflict.”
I felt rage.
“She was dying.”
“She was dangerous.”
“She was a mother.”
“So was mine.”
Grant’s face changed.
Samuel looked toward him.
“Yes, Mercer. I know about your family too.”
Grant raised his gun.
“Careful.”
Samuel smiled.
“Raymond owned your father.”
“Not anymore.”
“No. He’s dead.”
Samuel looked at me.
“Give me the certificate.”
“No.”
“You think that money belongs to victims?”
“Yes.”
“Naive.”
“You poisoned my mother.”
“Yes.”
The casual answer stunned everyone.
No denial.
No excuse now.
He was tired.
Maybe exposure had freed his arrogance.
“She had a chance to walk away,” Samuel said.
“She chose war.”
I stepped toward him.
“She chose truth.”
“Truth is what survives.”
I thought about the mailbox.
What survived?
“My mother survived.”
He frowned.
“In me.”
His gun shifted.
Dana moved first.
“Drop it!”
Samuel aimed at his daughter.
Vincent fired.
Samuel’s weapon flew from his hand.
He collapsed against the wall, shot through the shoulder.
Dana rushed forward.
For one second, she looked like a daughter.
Then she became a detective.
She cuffed him.
Samuel stared up at her.
“You’re arresting your father?”
“Yes.”
“For them?”
“No.”
Dana’s voice shook.
“For me.”
Sirens approached.
Samuel laughed weakly.
“You think this ends with me?”
Vincent stepped closer.
“No.”
“It ends with Raymond.”
Samuel smiled.
“You still don’t understand.”
“What?”
“Raymond never wanted to survive this.”
Silence.
My pulse slowed.
“What does that mean?”
Samuel looked at me.
“He’s dying.”
I stared.
“Cancer.”
Raymond.
The man who had orchestrated eleven years of fear.
Dying.
Samuel smiled bitterly.
“He wanted every enemy exposed before he went.”
Dana’s face hardened.
“You helped him.”
“No.”
“He manipulated all of us.”
“Yes.”
Samuel looked toward the ceiling.
“And his last move is already happening.”
Grant’s radio crackled.
Emergency message.
Vincent listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
Grant looked at him.
“Raymond is at the courthouse.”
“What courthouse?”
“Federal courthouse.”
Dana frowned.
“Why?”
Grant swallowed.
“He walked in carrying the original financial ledgers.”
I stared.
“He surrendered?”
“Apparently.”
Vincent laughed once.
Raymond Blackwell had spent twenty years avoiding prosecution.
Now, with his network exposed and Samuel arrested, he simply walked into a courthouse.
But Grant wasn’t finished.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“He asked for one person before he makes a statement.”
I already knew.
“Me.”
May you like
Grant nodded.
“Grace Bennett.”
