Chapter 4 - The Intruder
I froze in the center of the closet, my heart pounding so loudly I thought it might burst.
I looked around frantically for any kind of weapon, grabbing a heavy metal flashlight from the top shelf.
The heavy footsteps reached the second-floor landing and paused right outside my bedroom door.
I held my breath, gripping the metal cylinder so tightly my palms began to ache.
The brass doorknob slowly turned, and the door creaked open to reveal a massive, broad-shouldered man.
He was wearing a dark suit, and a silver earpiece coiled neatly behind his right ear.
He did not look like a burglar; he looked like private, high-end security.
The man spotted me in the closet and raised both of his hands in a placating gesture.
He calmly stated his name was Vance, and he worked for a private intelligence firm.
He told me he was not there to hurt me, but I had exactly two minutes to leave the property.
I raised the heavy flashlight like a club and demanded to know who sent him.
Vance reached into his jacket pocket very slowly and pulled out a burner phone.
He tossed it onto the bed, telling me the person on the other end had the answers I needed.
I picked up the phone, keeping my eyes locked on the massive intruder at all times.
I pressed the speaker button and demanded to know who was orchestrating this nightmare.
A sharp, authoritative female voice echoed through the bedroom.
The woman identified herself as James's older sister, Sarah.
This was completely impossible because James had told me his sister died in a car accident ten years ago.
Sarah told me my husband was a pathological liar who had faked her death to steal her inheritance.
She explained that James and Linda were a highly coordinated team of professional grifters.
They targeted vulnerable, isolated women, married them, and then quietly disposed of them.
Sarah said my shellfish allergy was the perfect weapon because it provided an airtight alibi.
James had only saved me at the restaurant because the police were already outside dealing with a noise complaint.
He could not risk an investigation with a cop sitting twenty feet away from the patio.
Sarah warned me that Linda's bail was just the first step in their backup plan.
They were coming to sedate me, transport me to the desert bunker, and drain my accounts.
Vance checked his watch and interrupted, stating that James's car had just entered the neighborhood.
I dropped the burner phone, grabbed my purse, and followed Vance down the back staircase.
We sprinted through the kitchen and out the back door just as the front door handle began to rattle.
Vance shoved me into the back of an armored SUV parked in the alleyway.
As we sped away, I looked back and saw James standing on the back porch.
He was not looking at the fleeing SUV.
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He was looking directly into the lens of a hidden camera I never knew existed in our backyard.
And he was smiling.
