Chapter 6 - The Real Monster
The entire tactical team froze, completely paralyzed by the horrifying and confusing scene before us.
David looked up, his expensive suit covered in Richard Thorne’s blood, and gave me a weary, broken look.
Emma buried her face tightly into David's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Put my daughter down!" I screamed, struggling desperately to stand up from the wheelchair.
My father placed a firm hand on my shoulder, keeping me seated while signaling his men to hold their fire.
David carefully lowered Emma to the floor, and she instantly sprinted across the room into my waiting arms.
I squeezed her tightly against my chest, burying my face in her hair and weeping with pure relief.
"I didn't kill him, Sarah," David said quietly, dropping his empty hands to his sides.
"I came here to stop him from hurting Emma, but someone else got to him first."
The lead FBI agent stepped forward, his weapon still aimed squarely at David's head.
"You expect us to believe that you are the hero of this story?" the agent demanded skeptically.
"I am a terrible husband, a thief, and a coward, but I would never hurt my own child," David confessed, his voice cracking.
He kicked a heavy, metallic briefcase across the expensive hardwood floor toward my father.
"Richard used my gambling debts to blackmail me into stealing small amounts from Sarah’s accounts," David explained.
"But when Sarah started collecting evidence, Richard realized his massive money laundering operation was exposed."
David pointed a shaking finger at the dead man in the armchair.
"He was the one who orchestrated the police raid, and he was the one who kidnapped Emma to force Sarah to sign away the trust."
My mind spun violently, trying to reconcile the abusive monster I knew with the man currently surrendering.
"Who shot Richard?" my father asked coldly, stepping over the bloody briefcase.
David swallowed hard, looking toward the open balcony doors leading out into the night air.
"Margaret did," David whispered, his eyes wide with lingering shock.
"My mother has been Richard's silent partner for twenty years, and she just tied up her only loose end."
Before anyone could process this massive revelation, a blinding spotlight suddenly illuminated the penthouse from outside.
The deafening roar of a heavy helicopter engine drowned out all other sounds in the room.
A military-grade transport helicopter was hovering just feet away from the glass balcony.
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Margaret was standing in the open side door of the chopper, holding a high-powered sniper rifle.
The red laser sight of her weapon cut through the darkness, landing perfectly in the center of my father's forehead.
