Chapter 7 - The Ghost
The radio broadcast continued, but the words became a deafening, meaningless blur in my ears.
Gareth was actually dead.
My husband, the man who had flawlessly orchestrated this entire nightmare just minutes ago, had been murdered.
I stared blankly at the passing streetlights, my mind aggressively struggling to process the impossible information.
I had literally just left Gareth completely alive in Bernard's hospital room, surrounded by a swarm of emergency medical personnel.
Someone had actively intercepted him in the stairwell and killed him before he could even escape the building.
And that same unknown someone had perfectly, flawlessly framed me for his brutal assassination.
"Lady, please don't hurt me," the truck driver whimpered softly, his sweating hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
I slowly lowered the surgical scalpel, realizing I was terrifying a completely innocent man.
"Pull over at the very next gas station," I instructed, my voice utterly hollow and exhausted.
He swerved rapidly into a dimly lit rest stop and slammed his foot on the brakes.
I pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from the envelope Elias had given me and dropped it heavily onto the dashboard.
"Forget you ever saw me tonight," I said politely, stepping out into the freezing, biting wind.
The truck sped away instantly, leaving me entirely alone in the desolate, empty parking lot.
I walked quietly to the back of the gas station and sat on an overturned milk crate near the massive dumpsters.
I pulled the encrypted flash drive from my pocket and stared intensely at the small piece of plastic.
Tessa and Elias were the only other living people actively involved in the conspiracy.
Tessa was far too cowardly to murder Gareth with her own hands in a crowded, heavily guarded hospital.
That strictly left Elias, the fixer who had already proven his absolute willingness to betray anyone for the right price.
But Elias killing Gareth meant a third, unseen party was secretly controlling the entire operation from the shadows.
I desperately needed someone who understood the deep, dark, violent history of the Langston family fortune.
There was only one person I genuinely knew who had always despised Gareth and possessed the technical skills to decrypt a secure medical drive.
Dr. Arthur Vance, my late father’s former medical partner and a brilliantly paranoid data analyst.
He lived completely off the grid in a highly secluded cabin deep in the Berkshire mountains.
I purchased a cheap physical map from the terrified gas station attendant and stole an unlocked bicycle from the side of the building.
It was a desperate, incredibly agonizing journey through the freezing, pitch-black New England backroads.
By the time the sun finally began to rise, my legs were entirely numb and my lungs were burning fiercely.
I finally reached the hidden dirt road leading directly to Arthur’s remote property.
I knocked heavily on the solid wooden door of the cabin, genuinely praying he was still alive.
The heavy door slowly creaked open, revealing Arthur holding a double-barreled shotgun aimed directly at my chest.
"I heard the awful news on the radio, Irene," Arthur said softly, his finger hovering dangerously over the trigger.
"I didn't kill him, Arthur," I pleaded desperately, raising my completely empty hands.
May you like
Arthur slowly lowered the weapon and stepped aside completely to let me in.
"I know you didn't," he replied grimly. "Because the person who actually killed Gareth called me an hour ago to strictly warn me you were coming."
