Chapter 7 - THE WRONG BOY TO TOUCH
Noah was crying now.
“Mom!”
Natalie took one step.
Martin shouted, “Stay back!”
Dominic raised both hands.
“Easy.”
Martin’s eyes were wild.
“You want easy? Give me the papers.”
“You walk out with him, you’re dead.”
Martin laughed nervously.
“You threatening me?”
“No.”
Dominic’s voice was calm.
“I’m explaining the future.”
“Dominic,” Natalie whispered.
He didn’t look away from Martin.
“Trust me.”
Martin backed toward the east stairwell.
Noah’s stuffed mascot lay on the floor.
Dominic noticed something else.
A polished silver serving tray on a side table.
Three feet from Natalie.
He looked at her.
Then at the tray.
Then back to Martin.
Natalie understood.
She grabbed it and threw.
The tray hit Martin across the side of the head.
He cursed.
Noah ducked.
Dominic moved.
Three strides.
That was all it took.
He slammed Martin into the wall and pulled Noah free.
Natalie rushed forward and wrapped herself around her son.
Martin swung wildly.
Dominic caught his wrist.
Twisted.
Martin screamed.
“You put your hands on that boy again,” Dominic said, “and no lawyer on earth will save you from me.”
Marcus returned with two security men.
“Brooke got to a car.”
Dominic looked at him.
“How?”
“Wedding vendor gate. She had a second access badge.”
“Track the vehicle.”
“Already doing it.”
Police sirens sounded in the distance.
Martin laughed through the pain.
“You called cops?”
Marcus tightened a restraint around his wrists.
“Yeah.”
Martin looked at Dominic.
“Thought guys like you handled things privately.”
Dominic’s face remained flat.
“I want you alive long enough to testify.”
Martin stopped laughing.
Natalie pulled Dominic aside.
“What now?”
“We secure the trust.”
“What about Brooke?”
“We find her.”
Noah looked up.
“Uncle Dom?”
Dominic knelt.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Is the wedding canceled?”
For the first time that morning, Dominic almost smiled.
“Very canceled.”
Noah nodded seriously.
“Good.”
Natalie gave a broken laugh.
Then Marcus’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“Car stopped.”
“Where?”
“Cliff Road.”
Dominic’s stomach tightened.
The eastern cliffs were less than two miles away.
“Brooke?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Vehicle’s empty.”
Then another alert appeared.
Security camera.
East cottage.
Marcus turned the phone.
Brooke was on screen.
She stood outside Catherine’s cottage carrying a red gasoline can.
Natalie whispered, “Oh my God.”
Dominic was already moving.
Because inside the cottage were Catherine Mercer’s letters.
Family photographs.
Legal records.
And the only physical copy of several documents that could prove Brooke’s fraud.
May you like
Brooke raised the gasoline can.
And poured.
