Chapter 6 - Uninvited Guests
The sound of car doors slammed like iron gates in the quiet estate grounds. Eleanor turned toward the heavy curtains, terror bleeding through the grease and soup on her face. “Who is that? Julian, who is outside?”
Julian lunged across the table toward the silver flash drive, knocking over a crystal gravy boat that sent dark brown sauce pooling over the linen. Marcus moved faster, his longer reach intercepting Julian’s arm and shoving him hard against the antique hutch. China rattled violently inside the glass cabinets.
“Don’t touch it,” Marcus growled, pinning his brother by the collar. “You don’t touch a single thing in this room until we know what’s coming through that door.”
“Marcus, please!” Julian pleaded, his voice cracking into a high, pathetic whine. “They’ll take everything! If the agents find the encrypted ledgers on that drive, the family is ruined. Everything Grandfather built, every holding, every property! We’ll lose it all!”
Clara walked calmly to the dining room window, pulling back the heavy velvet drape with one finger. Two black sedans and a local police cruiser sat in the driveway, their engines idling, headlights cutting through the evening mist. Men in dark suits were already ascending the front steps.
“It’s not the feds, Julian,” Clara said quietly, letting the curtain fall back into place.
Julian’s eyes widened with a desperate, fleeting glimmer of hope. “The police? You called the police on me? Clara, we can settle this before they come in. We can tell them it was a domestic misunderstanding—”
“I didn't call the police either,” Clara said, turning around to face the broken family. Her expression was completely devoid of mercy. “The men at the door are from the state probate division and the Attorney General’s special investigations unit. And they aren't here for you, Julian.”
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Eleanor froze, her hand halfway to her burning face. “What did you say?”
“They’re here for you, Eleanor,” Clara said, pointing a steady finger at the older woman. “Because the sixty thousand dollars you moved yesterday wasn’t Julian’s money. It was the pension fund for the three hundred workers at your late husband’s manufacturing plant.”
