On Christmas morning, my 9-year-old daughter opened a gift box from my father-in-law. Seconds later, she screamed that her face was burning. My husband rushed her to the hospital, but hours later, he returned with police officers. What they found inside our home exposed a truth none of us were ready for.

"Drop the iron, Mrs. Pierce," a deep, raspy voice commanded from behind me.

I recognized the voice immediately as Deputy Miller, a local cop who frequently drank with Richard at the town bar.

The metal tire iron slipped from my frozen fingers and clattered loudly against the hard dirt.

"Richard pays you well to clean up his messes, doesn't he?" I asked with bitter, venomous disgust.

The deputy chuckled darkly and kicked the heavy weapon far away from my feet.

"He pays me well enough to look the other way while he handles his private family business," Miller replied smoothly.

Chloe let out a pathetic, gurgling groan from the floor, blood pooling rapidly around her designer winter coat.

"Sarah, please help me," Chloe begged, hot tears streaming down her pale, dying face.

I looked down at the sister who had blindly helped mutilate my daughter for a false promise of cash.

"You helped a monster hurt Emma, Chloe," I spat, feeling absolutely zero pity for her agonizing pain.

Deputy Miller grabbed my arm roughly and shoved me violently against the splintered wooden wall.

"Richard is waiting for you at his old hunting cabin in the mountains," the corrupt cop sneered.

"He wants to finish this little family dispute personally, face to face."

Miller pulled out a pair of heavy steel handcuffs and reached aggressively for my wrists.

I knew that if he cuffed me in this shed, I would never see my daughter or husband alive again.

I drove my knee upward with every single ounce of strength I possessed, striking him squarely in the groin.

Miller roared in pure agony, dropping the loaded gun and doubling over in the freezing dirt.

I didn't hesitate for a single second to secure my advantage.

I grabbed his dropped service weapon from the ground and aimed it directly at his chest.

"You are going to tell me exactly what Richard is planning," I demanded fiercely, my finger hovering over the trigger.

Miller laughed through the intense pain, a bloody, psychotic smile spreading across his face.

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"You are already too late to save him," he wheezed breathlessly.

"Richard sent Daniel a fake text from your phone, and your stupid husband is walking into the cabin right now."

Chapter 6 - The Corrupt Deputy