Chapter 5 - The Trap at the Marina
Rain slammed against the windshield of the black SUV parked two hundred yards from the private slips at the Boston Harbor Marina.
Inside the vehicle, Genevieve and Julian sat in the backseat, monitoring a live audio feed being streamed directly from the wire tap fitted to Chloe Vance’s phone.
Chloe stood under the yellow halogen light of Dock 4, clutching a designer leather travel bag, shivering violently in the freezing coastal wind.
"Is he coming?" Julian asked quietly, watching the shadowy dock.
"He has to," Genevieve replied, her eyes glued to her tablet monitor. "The SEC frozen accounts haven't hit his personal private line yet. He thinks Chloe has the five million dollars in bearer bonds from the safe deposit box."
Through the audio receiver, the heavy sound of footsteps echoing on wet wood cut through the static.
A tall figure stepped out from behind a fifty-foot luxury yacht. He wore a dark raincoat, his collar turned up against the storm. As he stepped under the harbor light, his face was revealed.
It was identical to Julian's—the same sharp jawline, the same dark eyes, the same broad shoulders. But Dominic’s face was marked by an arrogant, reckless sneer that Julian had never possessed.
"Did you get the bonds?" Dominic demanded, stepping close to Chloe, grabbing her arm tightly.
"Dominic, you're hurting me!" Chloe sobbed, pulling back. "Where have you been?! The FBI was at the office this morning! Genevieve knows everything! She found out about the scar!"
Dominic swore loudly, his hand flying out to slap Chloe across the face with a sickening crack. "Shut up, you stupid bitch! I told you to stay away from the family chat! Posting that photo was the dumbest thing you could have done!"
"You promised me we were going to South America!" Chloe cried, lying on the wet wooden planks, clutching her cheek. "You said you were going to leave Julian with the tax fraud while we lived like royalty!"
"I used you, Chloe," Dominic sneered, reaching down to rip the leather travel bag from her hands. "Just like I used my idiot brother. Julian was always the good little boy who worked sixty hours a week while Father covered my debts. He owes me!"
Dominic unzipped the bag, looking inside. His smile vanished.
Inside the bag were no bearer bonds. There was only a single, sleek black audio recorder, its red recording light glowing brightly in the dark.
"What is this?" Dominic growled, grabbing Chloe by her hair.
Click.
The high-beam headlights of three black police cruisers snapped on simultaneously, illuminating Dock 4 in a blinding white glare.
"Dominic Montgomery! Hands where we can see them!" a megaphone boomed across the water.
Dominic spun around, blinding light washing over his terrified face as armed federal agents flooded the pier from every direction.
From behind the lead police cruiser, Julian and Genevieve stepped out under an umbrella.
Dominic stared at his twin brother, his jaw trembling with pure rage. "Julian... you cowardly little bastard. You hid behind your wife?"
Julian took a slow step forward, looking at his twin brother not with anger, but with deep, pitying contempt.
"I didn't hide behind her, Dominic," Julian said clearly, his voice carrying over the sound of the crashing waves. "I stood beside her. Something you and Father never understood."
Detective Miller stepped forward, slamming Dominic against the wooden railing, pulling his arms behind his back and snapping cold steel handcuffs around his wrists—right over the crescent scar on his left arm.
"Dominic Montgomery, you are under arrest for federal wire fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny," Miller read clearly.
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Genevieve walked up to the edge of the dock, looking down at Chloe Vance, who was weeping uncontrollably in the rain as female officers assisted her to her feet.
"You should have looked closer at the scar, Chloe," Genevieve said quietly before turning back toward the SUV with her husband.
