Chapter 11 – The Hunt
Chapter 11 – The Hunt
The warehouse fell into stunned silence.
No one spoke.
Not Adrian.
Not Elena.
Not Detective Laura Hayes.
Only the distant drip of rainwater echoed through the abandoned building.
Victor Langston stood with his hands cuffed behind his back, his expression strangely peaceful.
For the first time since the nightmare had begun...
He looked like a man relieved to stop lying.
Adrian took a slow step toward him.
"You expect me to believe my mother forged my grandfather's will?"
Victor met his eyes.
"I expect you to prove me wrong."
Hayes motioned two officers forward.
"Take him."
As they led Victor toward the exit, he stopped beside Adrian.
"I've confessed to murder."
"I've confessed to fraud."
"I'll spend the rest of my life in prison."
He paused.
"But if you stop looking now..."
"...the person who planned all of this will walk free."
Adrian watched him disappear into the rain.
For the first time...
He wasn't sure Victor had been the mastermind.
Only that he had been guilty.
Very guilty.
But perhaps...
Not guilty of everything.
Elena sat quietly in the ambulance outside the warehouse while paramedics checked her injuries.
Dr. Grant had insisted she return to the hospital immediately.
Instead, she reached for Adrian's hand.
"Don't believe him."
"I don't."
She looked into his eyes.
"No..."
"You don't want to."
Adrian frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Elena lowered her voice.
"Victor told the truth about some things tonight."
"He admitted to killing your father."
"He admitted to attacking me."
"People rarely confess to crimes they didn't commit."
She paused.
"So why would he suddenly lie about Margaret?"
Adrian had no answer.
Back at Police Headquarters, Victor's formal interrogation lasted until dawn.
Every statement was recorded.
Every confession documented.
He admitted to:
Embezzling nearly forty million dollars.
Creating shell companies.
Paying Vanessa Monroe over three million dollars.
Poisoning Robert DeLuca with Digoxin.
Ordering Elena to be intimidated before the anniversary gala.
Destroying financial records after Robert's death.
But every time Detective Hayes asked about the forged will...
Victor answered exactly the same way.
"I didn't create it."
"I inherited it."
At six o'clock that morning, the forensic laboratory called.
Hayes answered on speakerphone.
"We've completed the fingerprint analysis."
"On the will?"
"Yes."
The technician sounded uneasy.
"There are only three identifiable prints."
"Giovanni DeLuca."
"Charles Wellington."
"And..."
A pause.
"Margaret DeLuca."
The room became silent.
Harold slowly sat down.
"No..."
Hayes asked carefully,
"Any sign of Victor?"
"None."
Adrian stared at the report.
"There has to be another explanation."
Samuel Reeves looked exhausted.
"There may be."
"But fingerprints don't lie."
Elena quietly interrupted.
"Unless..."
Everyone looked at her.
"...someone wanted us to find them."
Before anyone could respond, an officer hurried into the room.
"Detective."
"What is it?"
"We just received a report."
He handed Hayes a tablet.
"Victor's private estate is on fire."
Less than twenty minutes later, firefighters battled towering flames outside Victor's country mansion.
The fire had consumed nearly half the building.
Hayes surveyed the scene.
"This wasn't accidental."
The fire chief nodded.
"Accelerant."
"Multiple ignition points."
"Someone wanted everything destroyed."
Adrian looked toward the collapsing roof.
"His records."
"His computers."
"Everything."
Samuel shook his head.
"Not everything."
Behind the burning mansion stood a detached stone carriage house.
Its heavy iron door remained locked.
The flames hadn't reached it.
Firefighters forced the entrance open.
Dust filled the air.
Inside stood old furniture covered with white sheets.
Boxes.
Paintings.
Broken clocks.
Nothing unusual.
Until Adrian noticed fresh footprints leading toward the back wall.
Hayes followed them.
"They're recent."
Very recent.
The footprints stopped beside a large wooden cabinet.
Four officers pushed it aside.
Behind it...
A steel vault door.
Victor had never mentioned a second vault.
Hayes ordered a locksmith.
Minutes later, the door swung open.
The smell of old paper drifted out.
Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling.
Filled with files.
Hundreds of them.
Every box labeled with a year.
All the way to the present.
Harold opened the first box.
Financial ledgers.
Property deeds.
Original contracts.
Everything Victor had supposedly destroyed.
"He kept copies."
Samuel nodded.
"Insurance."
"For himself."
Adrian searched another shelf.
Near the back sat a single black binder.
Unlike everything else, it carried no label.
He opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Surveillance photographs.
Of Robert.
Of Elena.
Of Adrian.
Even of baby Ethan inside the neonatal unit.
Someone had been watching the family for years.
Hayes turned another page.
There were photographs of judges.
Lawyers.
Doctors.
Politicians.
Each picture carried handwritten notes.
Dates.
Addresses.
Habits.
Samuel whispered,
"This isn't blackmail."
"What is it?"
"It's intelligence."
"Someone built files on everyone."
Then Elena noticed something tucked inside the back cover.
A folded city map.
Red circles marked eight different locations.
Seven had been crossed out.
Only one remained.
Blackwood Hunting Lodge.
Harold's face turned pale.
"The lodge."
"The one Nicholas supposedly disappeared to."
Samuel slowly nodded.
"They're going there."
"Who's they?"
Hayes asked.
Before Samuel could answer, another detective entered at a run.
"Detective!"
"We found the driver who helped Vanessa escape."
"Alive?"
"No."
"He was executed."
"Where?"
"In his apartment."
"Single gunshot."
The detective hesitated.
"But that's not all."
He placed an evidence bag on the table.
Inside was a burner phone.
Hayes turned it on.
The last incoming message appeared immediately.
Mission complete. Proceed to Blackwood.
The room became deathly quiet.
Victor was already in custody.
The getaway driver was dead.
Someone else was still giving orders.
Someone powerful enough to eliminate witnesses within hours.
Adrian looked at the map again.
"They're cleaning up."
Samuel nodded grimly.
"And the last loose end..."
He tapped the red circle over Blackwood Hunting Lodge.
"...is waiting for us."
A convoy of police vehicles left the city before sunrise.
Rain hammered the windshield as Adrian drove beside Detective Hayes.
The forest roads became narrower with every mile.
Dense pine trees swallowed the morning light.
Finally, the old hunting lodge appeared through the mist.
It looked abandoned.
Broken windows.
Collapsed porch.
Vines climbing over stone walls.
Yet smoke drifted lazily from the chimney.
Someone was inside.
Hayes raised a hand.
"No one fires unless fired upon."
The tactical team spread silently through the trees.
Adrian stepped out of the vehicle.
His eyes never left the front door.
Then...
It slowly creaked open.
A woman stepped onto the porch.
Blonde hair.
Mud-stained clothes.
Bruised face.
Vanessa Monroe.
She raised both empty hands.
"I surrender."
Every weapon pointed toward her.
Tears streamed down her face.
"I know where Nicholas is."
She looked directly at Adrian.
"But if we don't reach him first..."
May you like
"...everyone you've fought to protect will die."
End of Chapter 11
