Chapter 7 - PHASE TWO

“Police!” one deputy shouted.

No answer.

Then we smelled smoke.

Marcus swore.

“Gasoline.”

Someone had set the kitchen above us on fire.

The deputies rammed the basement door.

It didn’t move.

Naomi coughed.

“Claire!”

I grabbed the folder labeled with my name.

Smoke curled through the ceiling.

Marcus searched the walls.

“Old houses had coal exits.”

One deputy found a narrow wooden panel.

Behind it was a crawlspace.

We crawled through dirt and spiderwebs as flames roared above us.

The tunnel opened behind the barn.

We stumbled out coughing.

The farmhouse windows exploded seconds later.

A black SUV sped down the road.

I saw the driver.

Daniel.

“Daniel!” I screamed.

He never slowed down.

The deputies called it in.

Marcus took the folder from me.

“Please tell me you kept this.”

“I did.”

Inside were photographs of my grandfather’s estate documents.

Notes about my trust.

Copies of emails.

A timeline.

My relationship with Daniel had been recorded almost from our first date.

Month 1: Claire emotionally cautious.

Month 4: Strong attachment established.

Month 9: Introduce marriage discussions.

Month 14: Gain family trust.

I felt sick.

Then I saw:

Wedding night: execute document substitution.

And beneath it:

Phase Two: secure medical authority and beneficiary restructuring.

I stared at Naomi.

“What does medical authority mean?”

She looked grim.

“They wanted control if you became incapacitated.”

My skin prickled.

Marcus turned another page.

There was a life insurance policy.

Five million dollars.

Beneficiary:

Daniel Bennett.

“I never bought this.”

Naomi read further.

“It was issued six weeks ago.”

“How?”

“Electronic signature.”

Forged.

Again.

The sheriff’s radio crackled.

Daniel’s SUV had been found abandoned.

No Daniel.

No Margaret.

No Harold.

Then my phone rang from a blocked number.

I answered.

Daniel’s voice.

“You should have stayed on the couch, Claire.”

My body went cold.

“You tried to burn me alive.”

“You weren’t supposed to go there.”

“That’s your defense?”

“You’re destroying everything.”

“You forged my signature.”

“You don’t understand what your grandfather left you.”

“No. You don’t understand what you just lost.”

His breathing changed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m done being scared of you.”

I hung up.

Marcus looked at me.

“Good line.”

“It wasn’t a line.”

My phone buzzed again.

A photo message.

It showed my father sitting in his home office.

Unaware he was being photographed through the window.

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