Chapter 10

I stopped ten feet from Victor.

"The bag. Put it down."

I set the bag on the ground.

"Let my father go first."

Victor laughed.

"You're in no position to negotiate."

He picked up the bag. Opened it. Checked the contents.

Then he raised the gun.

"Thank you," he said. "Now both of you die here. It'll look like a murder-suicide. Tragic."

He pointed the gun at Dad.

I moved.

I didn't think. I just moved.

I grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it as hard as I could.

It hit Victor's hand.

The gun went off. The bullet hit the dirt.

Dad, tied to the chair, threw himself sideways. The chair crashed to the ground.

Victor recovered. He aimed at me.

And then the police sirens hit.

Victor turned. Panicked.

He ran. Toward the edge of the quarry.

Mills and his team swarmed in.

I ran to Dad. Untied his hands.

"Are you okay? Dad, are you hurt?"

He hugged me. Tight.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. You saved me."

Victor didn't get far.

He was cornered at the edge of the cliff. The water was a hundred feet below.

"Stay back!" he screamed. "I'll jump!"

Mills stepped forward.

"Victor, it's over. Put the gun down."

Victor looked at the water. Looked at the police.

And then he did something no one expected.

He threw the gun into the quarry.

And he surrendered.

They put him in handcuffs.

As they led him past me, he stopped.

He looked at me. And he smiled.

"You think this is over? Richard has money. Money wins. You'll see."

I didn't flinch.

"Not this time."

At the hospital, Dad got stitches. Three broken ribs. A concussion.

But he was alive.

Eleanor came. She held his hand and cried.

Detective Mills came too.

"Victor's talking," he said.

We both looked up.

"He's cutting a deal. He's willing to testify against Richard and Melissa. In exchange for a reduced sentence."

Dad frowned.

"What reduced sentence? He helped kill David. He kidnapped me. He threatened my daughter."

Mills nodded.

"I know. But his testimony puts Richard away for life. And Melissa. The DA is willing to give Victor twenty years. He'll serve at least fifteen."

I looked at Dad.

Fifteen years for a man who had destroyed so many lives.

It wasn't enough.

But it was something.

"And Richard?" I asked.

"Richard is going to trial. First-degree murder. Conspiracy. Embezzlement. If convicted, life without parole."

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Dad squeezed my hand.

"Then we testify. Both of us. We tell the truth. And we make sure Richard never sees daylight again."