Chapter 8 - THE HOUSE BY THE WATER
Henry Vale took Victoria to the same lake house where he had once celebrated Sarah’s eighth birthday.
That was the cruelty of it.
Victoria recognized the dock.
The stone fireplace.
The enormous windows overlooking Lake Winnipesaukee.
Charles used to bring the family there every summer.
Henry had stood beside him grilling steaks.
Laughing.
Holding little Sarah on his shoulders.
Now Victoria sat tied to a chair in the living room while Henry poured himself whiskey.
“You were family,” she whispered.
Henry looked toward the lake.
“I still am.”
“You murdered my husband.”
“Charles became irrational.”
“You mean honest.”
“He wanted to destroy everything we built.”
“It was his company.”
“Our company.”
“No.”
Victoria’s voice hardened.
“That was always your problem.”
Henry turned.
“You stood beside a brilliant man and convinced yourself his light belonged to you.”
Henry’s face tightened.
Victoria had finally found the wound beneath all his power.
Jealousy.
“You think Charles was a saint?”
“No.”
“You have no idea what he did.”
“Then tell me.”
Henry smiled.
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try.”
Henry sat opposite her.
Project Ardent had begun as a partnership.
Henry financed early research.
Charles designed much of it.
But when the work became valuable, Charles wanted strict controls.
Henry wanted expansion.
They fought.
Then Charles discovered Henry had created shell companies to secretly profit.
“He was going to report me,” Henry said.
“So you killed him.”
“I protected thirty years of work.”
“You murdered your best friend.”
Henry looked almost offended.
“I gave Charles opportunities.”
“To stay silent?”
“Yes.”
Victoria shook her head.
“You really believe that makes you innocent.”
“I don’t care about innocence.”
Henry leaned closer.
“I care about outcomes.”
Outside, a car approached.
Victoria’s heart jumped.
Henry looked at his watch.
“Sarah.”
“No.”
“Oh yes.”
“You told her to bring the key?”
“She will.”
“You don’t understand my daughter.”
Henry smiled.
“I understand mothers.”
The front door opened.
Sarah entered alone.
Black coat.
Hands visible.
“Mom.”
Victoria fought tears.
“Sarah, leave!”
Henry raised a gun.
“Close the door.”
Sarah obeyed.
“Where are Lucas and Ethan?”
“Safe.”
“Julian?”
“Arrested.”
Henry sighed.
“Predictable.”
“You were going to kill him too.”
“Eventually.”
Sarah looked at her mother.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Henry held out his hand.
“The key.”
Sarah pulled the brass key from beneath her coat.
Henry’s eyes brightened.
“For nineteen years.”
“Pathetic, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“All this murder for something small enough to fit in my hand.”
“You still think this is about money.”
“What else?”
“History.”
Henry stepped closer.
“People remember the person whose name is on the discovery. Charles Sterling. Charles Sterling. Charles Sterling.”
He laughed bitterly.
“No one remembers who financed him. Who found investors. Who kept the company alive.”
Sarah suddenly understood.
“You didn’t want his money.”
“I wanted what he stole.”
“Credit?”
“Legacy.”
Sarah stared.
“You killed my father because people admired him more than you?”
Henry’s face twisted.
“He betrayed me!”
“No.”
Sarah shook her head.
“He outgrew you.”
Henry slapped her.
Victoria screamed.
Sarah stumbled.
Henry grabbed the key.
“Code.”
Sarah said nothing.
Henry pointed the gun at Victoria.
“Code.”
“0317.”
“Voice authorization.”
Sarah smiled.
“You don’t have it.”
Henry frowned.
“You do.”
“No.”
Sarah wiped blood from her lip.
“My father built the authorization around a recording.”
“Where?”
“Federal custody.”
Henry’s face changed.
Sarah continued.
“The archive was opened this morning.”
Silence.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
Henry grabbed his phone.
No signal.
He walked toward the window.
Still nothing.
Sarah smiled.
“Your jammer works both ways.”
Henry looked outside.
Dark vehicles appeared beyond the trees.
One.
Two.
Five.
Federal agents.
Henry spun.
“You brought them.”
“I told you I understood mothers.”
Sarah stepped closer.
“You assumed I would sacrifice everything to save mine.”
“You would.”
“Yes.”
She looked at Victoria.
“But my mother taught me something.”
Victoria stared.
Sarah smiled.
“She taught me never to walk into a trap without making sure someone else knows where the trap is.”
Henry dragged Victoria upright.
Gun against her neck.
“Back!”
Sarah stopped.
Agents surrounded the house.
Mara’s voice came through a loudspeaker.
“Henry Vale! Put down the weapon!”
Henry backed toward the dock.
Victoria stumbled with him.
Sarah followed.
“Henry.”
“Stay back!”
“You can’t escape.”
“I escaped for nineteen years.”
“Not this time.”
They reached the end of the dock.
A speedboat waited.
Henry had planned everything.
He forced Victoria aboard.
Sarah jumped after them.
“Sarah!”
Henry almost fired.
Sarah held up her hands.
“You need a hostage who knows the archive.”
Henry considered.
Then smiled.
“Fine.”
He forced her aboard too.
The boat roared away.
Agents ran along shore.
Mara cursed.
A helicopter lifted from behind the trees.
On the boat, Henry smiled into the wind.
“You see?”
He shouted over the engine.
“Prepared men survive!”
Sarah looked behind him.
“No.”
Henry frowned.
“What?”
“Prepared women do.”
Victoria suddenly kicked the emergency release beside the driver’s console.
The engine cut.
Henry spun.
Sarah lunged.
The gun fell.
Henry grabbed Sarah’s throat.
Victoria hit him with the metal fire extinguisher.
He staggered.
Sarah shoved him.
Henry fell backward into the water.
For one second, nobody moved.
Then his head surfaced.
“Help!”
Sarah stared.
The water was freezing.
Henry struggled.
Victoria looked at her daughter.
Sarah grabbed the life ring.
Henry had tried to murder her.
Her children.
Her father.
He deserved nothing.
She threw the ring anyway.
Henry grabbed it.
Minutes later federal agents pulled him from the water.
Handcuffs replaced the life ring.
Mara climbed onto the boat.
“You saved him.”
Sarah wrapped a blanket around Victoria.
“I want him alive.”
“Why?”
Sarah looked at Henry.
“Because dead men become mysteries.”
She stepped closer.
“Living men answer questions.”
Henry stared at her with hatred.
May you like
Sarah smiled.
“And you have nineteen years of questions waiting.”
