Chapter 11 - Derek’s Choice
Derek pulled out a phone.
Not a weapon.
He placed it on the table.
“Everything’s recording.”
Samuel’s smile disappeared.
Derek had not escaped.
He had volunteered.
Federal investigators had used him to establish direct contact with Samuel.
Even I had not been told.
Dad looked at Marcus.
“You knew?”
Marcus nodded.
“Need-to-know.”
I almost laughed at the phrase.
My entire life had been destroyed by people deciding what I needed to know.
But this time there had been a legal reason.
Derek unlocked Rebecca’s restraints.
Samuel stepped backward.
“You think this redeems you?”
“No.”
Derek’s answer came immediately.
“It doesn’t.”
I felt something loosen inside me.
He finally understood.
Doing one right thing did not erase what he had done.
Samuel reached beneath the desk.
Agents moved.
The next seconds were chaos.
A gun appeared.
Sharon ducked.
Derek shoved Rebecca behind a filing cabinet.
Agents stormed the building.
Samuel fired once into the ceiling, then ran through a rear exit.
Nobody chased blindly.
Perimeter teams closed in.
Five minutes later, Samuel Ross was arrested beside the fence.
Alive.
No dramatic beating.
No revenge.
No father removing his watch.
Handcuffs.
Rights.
Evidence.
Law.
It was almost disappointingly ordinary.
And that was exactly what Dad needed.
He watched Samuel being placed in the federal vehicle.
Samuel saw him.
“Thomas!”
Dad did not move.
Samuel shouted again.
“You waited twenty-eight years for this!”
Dad looked at me.
Then at Mom.
Then back at Samuel.
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“I stopped waiting years ago.”
He walked away.
The next morning, I returned to my townhouse with police escort.
I packed clothes.
Photographs.
Books.
I left the wedding portrait.
Dad tried to carry every box.
I refused.
“I can carry one.”
“I know.”
“Then stop taking it.”
He reluctantly handed it back.
That became our new relationship.
He protected me.
I decided when I needed protection.
There was a difference.
In the bedroom, I found an envelope beneath Derek’s side of the mattress.
My name.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Not an apology.
Instructions.
A bank account.
A password.
Records of every payment Samuel made.
Derek had apparently started collecting evidence months earlier.
Why?
Maybe he planned to blackmail Samuel.
Maybe he planned to confess.
Maybe both.
The final line read:
If something happens to me, give this to your father.
I handed it to federal investigators.
The account contained enough evidence to connect Samuel to the corrupt officers who helped him escape.
It also contained a payment dated three days before my birthday.
Recipient:
D. LAWSON.
Amount:
$100,000.
Memo:
FINAL TASK.
My stomach turned.
“What final task?”
Investigators did not know.
Derek was brought in.
He stared at the transaction.
“I never got that money.”
“But it was sent to you.”
“Not my account.”
The account number had been altered by one digit.
Someone had created a second account in Derek’s name.
Whoever received the money had been assigned a final task.
The forensic team traced the withdrawal.
Cash.
Security footage available.
We gathered around the monitor.
A person entered the bank.
Baseball cap.
Sunglasses.
The teller handed over the money.
The person turned.
Mom gasped.
Dad stepped toward the screen.
It was Laura.
My mother’s twin.
She had taken Samuel’s final payment.
Agents went to the safe house where Laura was being held as a cooperating witness.
Her room was empty.
On the bed lay a note.
Claire—
I’m sorry.
He gave me one last thing to do.
Beneath the note was my childhood photograph.
A red circle had been drawn around my father.
Then Dad’s phone rang.
Laura’s number.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
We heard a car engine.
Then Laura whispered:
“Thomas, don’t go home.”
The line disconnected.
Dad opened his security app.
The camera showed our family home.
The front door stood open.
May you like
Someone moved inside.
And my mother was no longer standing beside us.
