Chapter 3 - The Secret Assistant
I sprinted behind Detective Miller as we rushed toward the hospital's underground parking structure.
The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long, terrifying shadows across the concrete pillars.
A dozen armed police officers had formed a barricade behind their cruisers, their weapons aimed directly at my husband.
Michael was backing slowly toward a dark SUV, his arm wrapped tightly around the neck of a young, terrified woman.
When I got closer, the breath was completely knocked out of my lungs.
The hostage was Chloe, Michael’s beautiful, twenty-four-year-old executive assistant.
She was the same woman who had conveniently dropped by our house early this morning to deliver paperwork.
"Michael, please stop this right now!" I screamed, pushing my way to the front of the police line.
He locked eyes with me, his face pale and completely covered in cold sweat.
"She did it, Sarah!" Michael roared, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against Chloe's temple.
"Chloe is the one who slipped into the kitchen and poisoned the juice bottle!"
Chloe sobbed hysterically, her expensive makeup running down her face in dark, messy streaks.
"He is lying, he is a psychotic monster!" she shrieked, pleading with the police to shoot him.
Detective Miller raised a megaphone, ordering Michael to drop the weapon and surrender immediately.
"I found the empty vial of the toxin in her purse while I was running away!" Michael yelled desperately.
He reached into his pocket and threw a small glass vial across the concrete floor toward the police.
"She works for the corporate rivals who have been trying to steal my pharmaceutical patents for months," Michael explained.
I stared at the woman I had welcomed into my home and offered a cup of coffee just hours ago.
If Michael was telling the truth, this beautiful young assistant had tried to murder my only child for corporate greed.
Suddenly, a loud, deafening gunshot echoed through the parking garage.
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Michael dropped his weapon and collapsed heavily onto the concrete, clutching his bleeding chest.
Chloe had a hidden, secondary weapon in her pocket, and she had just shot my husband at point-blank range.
