Chapter 6
The sound echoed through the quiet house.
Emily froze, the phone still pressed to her ear.
"Hello?" she whispered into the receiver. "911? There's a man in my grandmother's house. Marcus Bennett. He's dangerous."
She gave the operator our address, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.
I heard footsteps in the hallway.
Slow. Deliberate.
He was taking his time. Enjoying the moment.
"Margaret?"
His voice. Even after all these years, it made my skin crawl. Smooth, charming, dangerous.
"I know you're in there," he called out. "We have a lot to talk about. You and me. And my daughter."
My daughter.
The words hung in the air.
Emily looked at me, her face pale.
I put my finger to my lips, then pointed to the window.
We were on the first floor. We could climb out.
Emily nodded, understanding. She moved quietly toward the window, opened it slowly.
The footsteps stopped outside our door.
The doorknob turned.
Locked.
Marcus laughed—a low, amused sound.
"Come on, Margaret. Don't be like that. I just want to talk. Family to family."
He kicked the door. Once. Hard.
The wood splintered.
He kicked again.
The lock gave way.
The door swung open.
Marcus stood there, filling the doorway. He looked older, harder, but there was still that same dangerous charm in his eyes.
He looked at me, then at Emily.
And he smiled.
"Well," he said. "You must be Emily. Your mother was right. You have her eyes."
Emily stood her ground, her hand still holding the phone.
"The police are on their way," she said. Her voice shook slightly, but she didn't back down.
Marcus waved a hand dismissively. "We have plenty of time before they get here. This town's police force has always been slow."
He stepped into the room.
"What do you want, Marcus?" I asked. My voice was stronger than I felt.
He looked at me, and his smile faded.
"You know what I want," he said. "Thomas's little treasure. The diamonds. The papers. I know you found them. I've been watching this house for days. I saw you go out to the oak tree this afternoon."
Of course. He'd been watching.
"You're not getting anything," I said.
Marcus sighed, like he was disappointed in me.
"Always so stubborn, Margaret. That's what I always liked about you. Even when Thomas was lying to you, even when he was stealing from his friends, you stood by him. Loyal to a fault."
He took another step toward us.
"You know, Thomas and I were more alike than either of you want to admit. Both of us liars. Both of us thieves. The only difference is, I never pretended to be anything else."
"You're nothing like Thomas," I spat.
"Aren't I?" Marcus said. "He stole from his neighbors. He lied to his wife. He let his own brother be the villain so he could play the victim. And then he died a hero in your eyes, while I rotted in prison. Doesn't seem fair, does it?"
"Thomas paid for what he did," I said. "He lived with the guilt. He lost everything."
"Not everything," Marcus said. His eyes flicked to the metal box on the nightstand where I'd set it. "He still had his diamonds. His little insurance policy."
He moved fast.
Before either of us could react, he grabbed the box.
He opened it, saw the diamonds and papers inside, and smiled.
"Finally," he said. "After all these years."
But as he turned to leave, Emily moved.
She didn't think. She just acted.
She grabbed the heavy lamp from the nightstand and swung it at him.
It hit him across the back of the head.
Marcus stumbled forward, dropping the box. He caught himself on the dresser, then turned to look at Emily.
His eyes were filled with rage.
"You little—"
He lunged at her.
I didn't think either.
I threw myself between them, hitting Marcus as hard as I could with my shoulder.
He stumbled back, surprised by the force of an eighty-three-year-old woman's fury.
And then we heard it.
Sirens.
Getting closer.
Marcus's face twisted with anger and frustration. He looked at the box on the floor, then at the door.
He made a decision.
He ran.
We heard him burst through the front door, then the sound of his car speeding away down the driveway.
Emily and I collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard.
The box was still on the floor. The diamonds and papers were safe.
The police arrived minutes later. They took our statements, dusted for prints, put out an APB for Marcus.
When they left, we sat in the living room, the box between us on the coffee table.
"He knows we have it," Emily said quietly. "He'll come back."
I nodded. "I know."
I looked at the box. At the diamonds that had caused so much pain. At the papers that revealed the truth about my husband.
"We can't stay here," I said. "Not while he's out there."
Emily looked at me. "Where will we go?"
I thought about it.
There was only one place I could think of.
One person who might be able to help us.
My sister.
Elaine.
The woman Marcus had seduced all those years ago. The woman who'd left town and never come back.
I hadn't spoken to her in forty years.
But she was the only one who knew Marcus. The only one who might know how to stop him.
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"We're going to find Elaine," I said.
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