Chapter 2 - The Walls Have Eyes
I pulled Carol away from the window, pressing my finger to my lips.
We moved silently toward the narrow hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath our feet.
Heavy footsteps stomped up the front porch stairs.
The doorknob rattled violently, but I had instinctively locked it when I stepped inside.
"Dad?" Bradley's voice called out, muffled but thick with fake concern.
"I know you're in there, Dad."
I held my breath, gripping the flash drive so tightly my fingers ached.
"Mr. Thompson said you drove out here instead of getting a hotel," Bradley continued.
"Open the door, we need to talk about the property deed."
I looked at Carol, shaking my head to signal that I was not going to let him in.
He pounded his fist against the wood, the sound vibrating through the small cabin.
"Don't be stubborn, old man," his voice turned cold, the fake sweetness entirely gone.
"This land is zoned for commercial development, and you have no idea what you are sitting on."
I felt a surge of pure anger, realizing he had never cared about the house or the villa in Italy.
He had orchestrated the entire will just to get his hands on the cabin's land so he could bury the evidence of his crimes forever.
When I still refused to answer, Bradley cursed loudly and kicked the porch railing.
We listened as his heavy boots retreated down the steps.
His car engine roared to life, tires spinning in the dirt as he sped away down Driftwood Lane.
I let out a long breath and helped Carol sit down on the edge of the sofa.
"He doesn't know about the flash drive," Carol said, her hands still trembling.
"He knows Helen hid the financial ledgers somewhere, but he couldn't find them at the main house."
I looked at the small metal device in my hand.
"What is on this drive, Carol?" I asked.
"It is the proof that Bradley used substandard steel for the South River overpass and pocketed millions of dollars in the process," she replied.
I closed my eyes, the reality of my son's greed crushing whatever small piece of a father's heart I had left.
I had spent my life building safe, unbreakable structures, only to raise a son who tore them down for profit.
"We need a computer to open these files," I said, moving toward the kitchen.
"Helen kept a laptop hidden in the floorboards under the stove," Carol told me.
I slid the heavy oven forward, ignoring the sharp pain in my lower back.
Sure enough, a loose plank pulled away to reveal a dust-free compartment containing a silver laptop.
I booted it up, plugging the flash drive into the side port.
A password prompt immediately flashed across the screen.
"Do you know the password?" I asked her.
Carol shook her head, looking panicked.
"Helen never told me, she said you would know what it was."
I stared at the blinking cursor, racking my brain for dates, names, or places Helen would use.
I typed in our anniversary, but the screen flashed red with an error message.
I typed in her favorite flower, but it failed again.
"Three attempts remaining," the screen warned in stark red letters.
I took a deep breath, thinking about the woman I had loved for forty years.
What was the one thing she valued more than anything else in the world?
I carefully typed out the word "Justice" and hit the enter key.
The screen unlocked, opening a folder containing hundreds of bank statements and forged blueprints.
But before I could click on the first document, the screen went entirely black.
May you like
A second later, a terrifying message popped up in bright green text.
"Downloading files... Remote wipe initiated."
