Chapter 10 - THE GUN

The courtroom exploded.

Arthur stood.

“That’s impossible.”

Rachel pulled him down.

“Do not move.”

Elena was crying now.

Real tears or perfect acting—Arthur couldn’t tell anymore.

Her attorney said, “My client woke to find the weapon inside her room.”

“I didn’t put it there!”

The judge slammed his gavel.

“Mr. Vance.”

Arthur forced himself silent.

Detective Brooks entered the courtroom.

Arthur caught her eye.

She gave the smallest shake of her head.

Something was wrong.

Rachel requested a recess.

In the hallway, Brooks pulled them aside.

“The gun is registered to Arthur.”

“I know,” Rachel said.

“But here’s the problem. According to household security footage, it was removed from Arthur’s safe at 2:14 this morning.”

Arthur frowned.

“I was at my father’s estate.”

“Exactly.”

“Then who opened the safe?”

“Biometric lock.”

Arthur stared.

“My fingerprint?”

“Someone used a copied print.”

Maria whispered, “Elena.”

Brooks looked at her.

“Maybe.”

Arthur’s phone buzzed.

Pier 17.

Noon.

He had forgotten the threat for nearly five minutes.

Carlos.

“What time is it?”

Rachel checked.

“Ten thirty.”

Arthur told Brooks about the call.

She swore.

“You were going to mention that when?”

“Now.”

“We’ll set up a controlled exchange.”

“They said alone.”

“They always say alone.”

At 11:50, Arthur stood near Pier 17 with Isabel’s notebook inside his jacket.

Brooks’s officers were positioned out of sight.

Maria had been ordered to remain in the car.

Naturally, she ignored the order.

Arthur saw her moving behind a warehouse.

He whispered into his hidden microphone.

“Maria, get back.”

No answer.

A black SUV pulled onto the pier.

The rear door opened.

Carlos Torres stumbled out.

His face was bruised.

His hands were tied.

“Carlos!”

Maria ran.

Arthur cursed.

“Maria!”

A masked man stepped from the SUV with a gun.

“Notebook!”

Arthur raised both hands.

“Let him go.”

“Notebook first.”

Arthur pulled it out.

The gunman grabbed Carlos by the collar.

“Throw it.”

Arthur threw the notebook onto the ground.

The gunman picked it up.

Police sirens exploded from both ends of the pier.

“Police!”

The gunman fired.

Arthur tackled Maria.

Carlos dropped.

Bullets hit metal behind them.

The gunman ran toward the water.

Detective Brooks chased him.

Arthur crawled to Carlos.

“You hit?”

“No.”

Maria ripped the tape from her brother’s wrists.

“Carlos, who did this?”

He was crying.

“I’m sorry.”

Maria grabbed his face.

“Who?”

Carlos looked at Arthur.

“Your wife paid me.”

Arthur went cold.

Carlos continued.

“But she wasn’t trying to frame Maria.”

“What?”

“She was trying to warn her.”

Arthur stared at him.

“That makes no sense.”

Carlos shook his head.

“You don’t understand.”

Behind them, officers dragged the captured gunman back toward the pier.

Brooks ripped off his mask.

Arthur’s heart stopped.

Ray.

His head of security.

The man protecting Noah.

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Arthur spun toward Maria.

“Where’s my son?”