Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
The man with the gun descended first.
He was tall, probably in his fifties, with a gray beard and the kind of expression that never changed.
The second man followed.
He wore an expensive black coat and carried a leather briefcase.
Vanessa remained at the top of the stairs.
She looked at me.
There was no surprise on her face.
That told me everything.
She had known I was coming.
Maybe not exactly when.
But she had expected me.
"You lied to me," I said.
Vanessa shrugged.
"You've been gone twelve years."
"That doesn't answer me."
"You stopped being part of this family a long time ago."
My father slammed his hand against the bars.
"Don't you dare blame him!"
Vanessa turned toward him.
"You're still protecting him?"
"He's your brother."
"No."
Her voice became cold.
"He's a stranger."
I stared at her.
"What happened to Mom and Dad?"
"They're old."
"That's not an answer."
"They refused to cooperate."
The man with the briefcase stepped forward.
"Perhaps we should focus on the documents."
He opened the case.
Inside were several folders.
My father saw them.
His face went pale.
"No."
Vanessa smiled.
"It's over, Dad."
She pulled out a document.
"A property transfer."
She held it up.
"Your signature."
Dad stared at it.
"I never signed that."
"You did."
"I did not."
I looked at the signature.
It appeared authentic.
Even I recognized my father's handwriting.
But something bothered me.
My father had always signed his middle initial.
The document didn't have one.
I pointed at it.
"You forged it."
The man with the briefcase looked at me.
His expression changed slightly.
Vanessa stepped closer.
"Michael, you don't understand what you're standing in the middle of."
"Then explain it."
She laughed.
"You always thought Dad was a retired contractor."
Dad looked away.
"That's because that's what he told you."
I looked at him.
"Isn't it?"
He didn't answer.
Vanessa continued.
"Grandpa bought this property in 1969."
"Okay."
"He didn't buy it because he liked the view."
She pulled another document from the case.
"This entire valley sits on land that was once part of a private industrial reserve."
The briefcase man interrupted.
"Miss Vanessa."
She ignored him.
"There is something beneath this property."
My heart started pounding.
"Gold?"
She smiled.
"Better."
My father shouted:
"Enough!"
The gunman raised his weapon.
My mother screamed.
I stepped in front of her.
The man with the gun looked at me.
"Don't."
I stopped.
Vanessa came down the final step.
"Michael, I'm going to make you an offer."
"I'm listening."
"Leave tonight."
"No."
"Take whatever money you want."
"No."
"Then you will disappear."
I looked at my parents.
"Not without them."
Vanessa's face hardened.
"You still don't understand."
She leaned close.
"If you stay, you'll die."
I smiled.
"You've been keeping my parents in a cage."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You think I'm the villain?"
"I don't think."
I looked at the gunman.
"I know."
For the first time, Vanessa looked frightened.
Then Dad suddenly shouted:
"Michael!"
I turned.
He was pointing at the brass key.
"Look at the bottom!"
I examined it.
There were tiny numbers engraved on the metal.
17-04-9.
I remembered something.
Grandfather's old workshop had a safe.
I had seen it once as a child.
The combination had been written on a wooden beam.
17-04-9.
I looked at Dad.
He nodded.
"Find the safe."
Vanessa's face went white.
"Where is it?"
I didn't answer.
The briefcase man suddenly stepped forward.
"Take him."
The gunman moved.
I reacted before thinking.
I grabbed the metal water bucket beside me and threw it at the lights.
Darkness.
My father yelled.
My mother screamed.
Someone fired.
The gunshot exploded through the cellar.
I grabbed my mother.
"Tunnel!"
Dad pushed himself forward.
The three of us crawled through the hidden passage.
Behind us, Vanessa screamed my name.
"MICHAEL!"
We ran.
The tunnel twisted beneath the property.
My father was weak.
My mother could barely breathe.
But we kept moving.
Then the tunnel opened into an old root cellar behind the house.
We climbed out.
Snow covered the ground.
I helped Mom stand.
Dad leaned against me.
For the first time in twelve years, we were together.
Then my father looked toward the house.
"Michael."
"What?"
"The safe isn't in the workshop."
"Where is it?"
He whispered:
"Your childhood bedroom."
May you like
I stared at him.
"The room Vanessa sleeps in now."
