Chapter 6 - Shadows in the Rearview
Before I could process the horror of her words, a loud thud echoed from the front of the house.
The heavy front door slammed shut, followed by the booming, authoritative voice of my father.
“Vanessa? Are you in here?”
Vanessa paused. The cruel smile vanished from her lips, replaced by an expression of sharp annoyance. She lowered the letter opener, tucked it into the pocket of her emerald blazer, and took a step back from the curtains.
“In the library, Dad!” she called out, her voice instantly transforming into the light, innocent tone of a dutiful daughter.
I stood frozen behind the velvet drapes, my hands clamped over my mouth to silence my ragged breathing.
Heavy, hurried footsteps entered the room.
“What are you doing here?” Dr. Richard Montgomery barked. “The police have a squad car parked down at the foot of River Road. Detective Vasquez called my office twenty minutes ago. They’re executing the warrant this afternoon!”
“Oh, let them come,” Vanessa said dismissively. “You pay the District Attorney fifty thousand dollars a year for his campaign fund. Let him earn his money.”
“This isn't like twenty years ago, Vanessa!” my father hissed, his voice trembling with a rare, terrifying panic. “There were over a hundred witnesses! The venue has high-definition security feeds! You shoved her straight through the patio door! The whole country club saw it!”
“And she survived, didn't she?” Vanessa replied, taking a sip of her wine. “A few scratches. A couple of stitches. She’s fine.”
“Her orbital bone was re-fractured!” my father shouted. “Ethan Parker was the attending surgeon at St. Jude’s! He called me on my personal line yesterday morning, Richard! He recognized the surgical plate! The plate *I* signed off on under an assumed name in 2002 to keep the medical board from investigating this family!”
I closed my eyes in the darkness behind the curtain.
My father.
My own father had forged the surgical records to hide what Vanessa had done to me when I was six.
“Calm down, Dad,” Vanessa said, her voice dropping into a sinister, icy register. “Claire won't testify.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“Because Daniel has her completely under control. And if Daniel fails...” Vanessa paused, and I heard the faint clink of her glass against the desk. “...then we simply remind Claire of what happened to Julian. She’s fragile. One little push, and she’ll check herself into a private clinic just like she did during her junior year of college.”
“Don't touch her,” my father whispered hoarsely. “If anything else happens to Claire, Arthur’s trust will freeze all our assets pending an independent audit. The IRS will tear the practice apart. We lose everything.”
“Then you’d better make sure your pet son-in-law does his job,” Vanessa said coldly. “Now get out of here. I have some paperwork to shred.”
I heard my father let out a ragged breath before his heavy footsteps retreated down the hall. Vanessa lingered for another minute. I heard the hum of a paper shredder starting up, the sound of documents being destroyed in batches.
After five agonized minutes, Vanessa’s heels clicked across the floor, and the library door closed behind her.
I waited until the house was utterly silent before stepping out from behind the curtain.
My trench coat was soaked with sweat. My hands shook so violently I could barely manipulate the latch on the French window behind the desk. I forced it open, slipped out into the chilly autumn air, and ran through the overgrown rose bushes toward the detached garage.
I scrambled into my car, threw it into reverse, and tore down the long driveway without looking back.
As I merged onto River Road, my rearview mirror caught the reflection of a dark gray SUV parked two hundred yards back, nestled beneath the shade of an old willow tree.
As soon as my car cleared the gates, the SUV’s headlights flicked on.
It pulled out into the lane, matching my speed.
My pulse skyrocketed. I accelerated, taking the winding turns of River Road at sixty miles an hour, the tires screaming against the asphalt. The SUV kept pace, sitting two car-lengths behind me, its dark tinted windows hiding the driver’s face.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the only number I knew I could trust.
Not Daniel. Not my mother.
“Detective Vasquez,” a deep, raspy voice answered on the second ring.
“Detective, this is Claire Montgomery,” I gasped, checking the rearview mirror. The SUV was closing the distance. “I’m on River Road heading toward Carytown. Someone is following me.”
“Claire? Stay on the line,” Vasquez said, the sound of police sirens immediately howling in the background of his call. “Where are you right now?”
“Passing the country club golf course! It’s a gray Ford Explorer, no front plate!”
Just as I rounded a sharp bend near the riverbank, the Ford accelerated violently, roaring up directly behind my bumper.
*BANG.*
The impact jerked my head back against the headrest, my stitches screaming with white-hot agony. My car swerved toward the guardrail, gravel spraying against the undercarriage.
“Claire!” Vasquez yelled through the phone. “Claire, keep the wheel straight!”
The SUV pulled alongside me on the two-lane road, its heavy steel bumper aligning with my rear tire. Through the tinted passenger window, the glass rolled down two inches.
I looked over.
May you like
Sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV, staring at me through dark sunglasses, was Daniel.
***
