Chapter 7 - The Masterpiece
I stared at my mother, trying to process her hysterical words.
“What do you mean the ledger was fake?” I asked.
“Your grandfather was paranoid,” my mother cried.
“He left a decoy ledger in the floor safe just in case anyone ever found it.”
“When your father tried to use the account codes to steal the offshore money, the terminal locked him out.”
Julia chimed in, weeping loudly as Marcus carefully untied her wrists.
“Dad went completely crazy when the computer rejected the transfer.”
“He started tearing the house apart looking for the real ledger.”
“He tied us up because we tried to stop him from smashing the antique furniture.”
I looked around the destroyed living room, feeling a strange mix of anger and awe.
My grandfather had always been three steps ahead of everyone, even from the grave.
“Where is my father now?” Marcus asked firmly.
“He figured out where the real ledger is hidden,” Julia whimpered.
“He said Grandpa always obsessed over that stupid antique grandfather clock in the hallway.”
I instantly remembered the massive, wooden clock that had stood in the foyer my entire life.
I ran out of the living room and into the main hallway.
The spot where the clock usually stood was completely empty.
“He loaded it onto the moving truck!” I yelled to Marcus.
“He is taking the clock somewhere safe so he can dismantle it and find the real codes.”
We sprinted out the front door and looked down the street.
The massive moving truck was already accelerating around the corner, disappearing from view.
“Get in the car!” Marcus shouted, tossing me the keys.
“You drive, I need to track the GPS signal on that truck.”
I jumped into the driver's seat and jammed the key into the ignition.
The powerful engine roared to life, and I slammed my foot on the gas.
We tore through the suburban neighborhood, desperately chasing the massive truck.
“Take a hard left at the next intersection!” Marcus commanded, staring at his tablet.
“He is heading toward the industrial district near the old docks.”
I swerved the car aggressively, barely missing an oncoming delivery van.
I was not going to let my father destroy my family's legacy.
We finally spotted the large truck parked outside an abandoned, rusty warehouse near the water.
I slammed on the brakes, stopping the sedan a safe distance away.
“We need to be careful,” Marcus whispered, pulling a sleek black handgun from his ankle holster.
“He is desperate, and desperate men make highly irrational decisions.”
We crept silently toward the open bay doors of the dark warehouse.
Inside, the massive grandfather clock was standing in the center of the concrete floor.
My father was furiously hacking at the beautiful wooden casing with a heavy fire ax.
Wood splinters flew through the air as he destroyed the priceless antique.
“Where is it!” he screamed like a madman, swinging the ax again.
Suddenly, a small, secret compartment in the base of the clock snapped open.
A small, velvet pouch dropped onto the dirty concrete floor.
My father dropped the ax and fell to his knees, grabbing the pouch with greedy hands.
He pulled out the real, authentic leather ledger and raised it in victory.
But before he could even open the book, the heavy warehouse doors slammed shut behind us.
The entire building was plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
And a cold, unfamiliar voice echoed through the massive room.
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“Thank you for doing the heavy lifting, Richard,” the voice said smoothly.
“Now, hand over the ledger.”
