Chapter 7 - The Confrontation
The thunderous sound of Derek's boots pounding down the main staircase shook the house.
He rounded the corner into the kitchen just as my hand touched the handle of the back door.
"Going somewhere?" Derek snarled, his face twisted into an ugly mask of rage.
Valerie rushed in behind him, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw us.
"Derek, what is going on here?" Valerie demanded, clutching her briefcase.
"Shut up, Val," Derek snapped, his eyes locked on me.
"Well, well. Mother Eleanor. I should have known you'd stick your nose where it doesn't belong."
I stood tall, pushing Chloe slightly behind me.
"I know everything, Derek. I know about the debts, the forged loan, and the cabin," I said, my voice remarkably steady.
"You don't know anything, you old bat," he sneered, taking a step toward us.
"I know enough to have recorded your entire confession on my phone," I replied, holding up the device.
Derek's confident smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a look of sheer panic.
"Give me that phone," he demanded, lunging forward.
I stepped back, but Chloe moved faster.
She grabbed the heavy, cast-iron skillet from the stovetop and swung it with all her might.
The heavy pan connected with Derek's shoulder, sending him crashing into the granite island.
He howled in pain, clutching his collarbone as he crumpled to the floor.
Valerie screamed, dropping her briefcase and backing away toward the front door.
"I didn't sign up for this! I'm leaving!" she shrieked.
"Don't let her go, Mom! She's part of the fraud!" Chloe yelled.
But before Valerie could reach the doorknob, the unmistakable flash of red and blue lights illuminated the living room windows.
May you like
Marcus had delivered on his promise.
The police had arrived.
