Chapter 4 - The Escape
The ceramic mug shattered against Ethan’s head with a dull, sickening crack. Ethan let out a sharp cry of pain, his grip on Clara’s wrist instantly loosening as he staggered backward, clutching his bleeding temple with both hands.
“You bitch—” he snarled, blood seeping through his fingers.
Clara didn't wait to see if he was falling. She turned on her heel and sprinted down the hallway toward the front door. Her bare feet slapped frantically against the hardwood floor as the heavy deadbolt rattled behind her.
Click.
She threw the door open just as heavy footsteps thundered down the hall.
“Clara! Get back here!” Ethan roared, lunging forward with murder in his eyes.
Clara launched herself out the front door, slamming it shut behind her with all her weight, and flipped the exterior deadbolt lock—a security feature Ethan himself had insisted on installing months ago. A loud, metallic clack echoed through the porch as the bolt slid home, trapping Ethan inside his own trap.
Shouts and heavy thuds pounded against the wooden door from the inside, accompanied by Ethan’s muffled, furious swearing.
Clara didn't stop to catch her breath. She tore down the front steps, her heart hammering against her ribs like a sledgehammer, and sprinted across the lawn toward the street. The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, but she barely felt it. She needed her car keys, but they were still sitting on the kitchen island inside the house.
Think, Clara, think!
She pulled her cell phone out of her coat pocket with trembling fingers, her screen unlocking with a smudge of blood from where she had grazed Ethan’s head. She dialed 911, but before she could press call, a familiar silver sedan pulled abruptly onto the gravel driveway beside her.
The passenger door swung open, and Rosa leaned across the center console, her eyes wide with frantic urgency.
“Get in!” Rosa shouted over the pounding against the front door behind them. “I saw him lunge at you through the window! I didn't drive away—I parked down the block waiting to see if you made it out!”
Clara didn't hesitate for a single second. She dove into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut behind her as Rosa slammed her foot on the accelerator.
As the sedan sped down the suburban street, Clara looked back through the rear window. Ethan had managed to force a small second-story window open, leaning out over the porch roof, screaming obscenities and shaking his fist as the car disappeared around the corner.
“Are you okay?” Rosa asked, her hands shaking as she gripped the steering wheel. “My God, Clara, what happened in there?”
“He was poisoning me,” Clara breathed, clutching her bruised wrist, tears finally spilling over her lashes. “He was setting me up to look insane so he could steal my uncle’s estate. We need to go to the police right now. But not local precinct—federal investigators. Ethan has connections in the local county sheriff’s department. We need someone who can’t be bought.”
Rosa nodded grimly, her jaw set. “I know a man. My cousin is a senior cyber-crimes investigator for the state attorney general’s office. And Clara... before I left the house today, I didn't just take one grocery bag from his trash. I took his primary home office laptop while he was in the garage.”
Clara stared at Rosa in stunned disbelief. “You took his laptop?”
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Rosa reached into the back seat and pulled out a sleek, black Dell workstation, sliding it across the console into Clara’s lap.
“Every single file he’s been building against you,” Rosa said darkly. “Including the bank routing numbers for your uncle’s estate. It’s all right here.”
