Chapter 15 - The Ambush
The beam of my flashlight hit the figure in the doorway, illuminating the scarred, desperate face of Arthur Pendelton. He held a suppressed pistol, the barrel pointed squarely at my chest.
"Put the bag on the desk," Arthur said, his voice a gravelly whisper that echoed in the ruined study.
My blood ran cold, but I forced myself to stand my ground. "Bethany sent you, didn't she? The police tape didn't stop her from making sure her loose ends were tied up."
"She pays well," Arthur replied, his eyes darting nervously around the room, betraying a crack in his professional facade. "A lot better than your old man did. Put the bag down, and maybe I'll let you walk out of here. She just wants the book."
"You're a fool if you believe that, Arthur," I said, slowly lowering the backpack, stalling for time. "You really think she's going to let you walk away? You know too much. You're the only link between her and the harassment. The moment you hand her that ledger, she's going to put a bullet in your head and blame it on the break-in."
Arthur’s grip on the gun tightened, his jaw clenching. I had struck a nerve. He was a disgraced cop, a man who lived in the shadows; he knew how these stories ended. He knew the rich always discarded their tools when the job was done.
"Shut up," he snapped, stepping further into the room. "Slide the bag across the floor."
"Look at this place, Arthur," I pressed on, my voice steady despite the terror gripping my chest. "My parents built an empire, and it collapsed overnight. Bethany is desperate. She's scrambling. She paid off your debts to own you, but now she's trying to clean house. If you kill me, you're looking at murder in the first degree. The cops are already watching her. How long before they trace the wire transfers back to you?"
Arthur hesitated, the barrel of the gun dipping a fraction of an inch.
"I have the ledger right here," I continued, kicking the bag gently toward him. "It proves she's been running the extortion ring for a year. It proves she set my parents up to take the fall. If you take this to her, you're signing your own death warrant. But if you help me..."
I paused, letting the silence hang heavy between us.
"If I help you, what?" Arthur sneered, though the conviction had bled out of his voice.
"If you help me, we hand her to the FBI," I said. "I get my family's target off my back, and you get immunity. You become the whistleblower instead of the fall guy."
May you like
Arthur stared at the backpack, then at me. The war behind his eyes was evident. Finally, he slowly lowered the gun, the heavy sigh escaping his lips signaling the shift in power.
"Alright," Arthur muttered. "What's the play?"
