Chapter 11 - The Race to the Docks
""We need that key, Clara,"" Agent Vance urged, his voice tight. ""If Marcus opens that vault first, the evidence disappears with him, and the cartel will assume you helped him launder the proceeds. Cooperate with me, and I can put you and your sons into protective custody before the sun sets.""
Clara weighed the man’s words. Every instinct she possessed screamed that trusting anyone connected to Marcus's financial orbit was suicide. If she gave Vance the key, she surrendered the only leverage keeping her and her children relevant—and safe.
""The key is in the suitcase at the motel,"" she lied smoothly, meeting Vance's sharp gaze without flinching. ""Take us there. I'll get it for you.""
Vance nodded once, signaling toward the exit. Clara walked over to the children's area, collecting Leo and Toby with a reassuring smile. As they walked through the library atrium toward the glass double doors, Clara caught sight of a dark grey SUV parked idling across the street—the exact make and model Marcus had driven away in twenty-four hours earlier.
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""Marcus is outside,"" she hissed under her breath.
Vance reacted instantly, reaching beneath his jacket. But before he could draw his weapon, the loud crack of a rifle shattered the library's glass entrance, showering the marble foyer in glittering shards. Vance went down hard, clutching his shoulder as screams erupted through the building. Clara grabbed both boys by their coats, dragging them down behind the heavy oak circulation desk as gunfire rained across the room.
