Chapter 7 - The Trap Sprung
"Step away from the safe, Nora."
The voice was low, smooth, and chillingly familiar.
I whipped around, grabbing the red ledger and the insurance papers, pressing my back against the wall of the closet.
Standing in the master bedroom doorway was Derek Vance.
He wasn't wearing his lawyer’s suit anymore. He was wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket, his hands resting casually inside his pockets.
"Where are the officers?" I gasped, my eyes darting toward the open bedroom door.
"Oh, those nice county cops?" Derek smiled, tilting his head with Marcus’s trademark cruelty. "My mother had a minor 'medical emergency' out on the front lawn. Fainted dead away right onto the sidewalk. The officers naturally ran down to administer first aid and call an ambulance."
He took two slow steps into the room.
"Which gives you and me about three minutes to handle this like family," Derek said. "Put the papers down, Nora. Put the drives back in the safe, close the door, and walk away. Arthur has already drawn up the full custody relinquishment papers. You sign them, you take a hundred grand in hush money, and you disappear."
"He tried to kill her, Derek," I said, my voice shaking with pure revulsion. I held up the life insurance policy. "Look at this! He took out a two-and-a-half-million-dollar policy on Lily! He staged that fall!"
Derek didn't look shocked. His smile didn't even slip.
"Of course he did," Derek said calmly. "Marcus owes twelve million to private creditors in Chicago. If he doesn't pay by the end of the quarter, they won't just ruin his career—they’ll put him in a concrete pillar. Lily was the exit strategy. A tragic, clumsy accident. The grieving father collects the payout, pays off his debts, and everyone moves on."
The world seemed to spin on its axis. "You knew? You and Evelyn knew?!"
"Mom helped him pick the bowl," Derek chuckled softly. "Heavy crystal. Sharp edges. Guaranteed to cause maximum trauma. Marcus was just supposed to push her while she was carrying the candles to make it look like a burn and a fall. But the idiot lost his cool when she dropped the cake early."
Derek pulled a black Glock 19 from his leather jacket, pointing it directly at my chest.
"Now," Derek said, his voice dropping all humor. "Give me the files. You’re going to suffer a terrible, guilt-ridden overdose right here on Marcus’s bed. A tragic end to a hysterical woman who couldn't handle the shame of her husband’s arrest."
I looked at the barrel of the gun.
For seven years, I had been Nora the peacemaker. Nora the compliant wife. Nora the woman who looked down at her shoes whenever a Vance raised his voice.
That woman died the moment Lily’s blood hit the kitchen floor.
"You really think," I whispered, "that I came into this house alone?"
Derek frowned, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger. "What are you talking about—"
*CLACK-CLACK.*
The sound of two shotgun slides racking simultaneously echoed from the master bathroom door behind Derek.
"Drop the weapon! Drop it right now! Hands where I can see them!"
Officer Vance and a second officer burst out from the bathroom, their service weapons trained dead on the center of Derek’s back.
Derek froze. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Drop it!" Officer Vance bellowed.
The gun slipped from Derek’s fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor. In an instant, the second officer tackled him face-first onto the carpet, driving a knee into the small of his back and wrenching his arms behind him.
"You had cops inside?" Derek spat through the carpet, spitting blood.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The red recording light was flashing brightly. The live audio stream had been broadcasting directly to Detective Miller’s desk at SVU since the second I stepped through the front door.
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"I didn't trust you, Derek," I said, stepping over his pinned body. "I know your family. You never leave a crime scene until you've burned the evidence."
***
