Chapter 5 - The Safe House
I burst through the side exit of the Apex Financial building into the searing Houston heat, gasping for breath. The midday sun felt blinding after the damp gloom of the basement. I couldn't go home, I couldn't use my car, and I couldn't trust a single soul at work except Sarah.
Using a public payphone outside a run-down gas station—paying with a crumpled five-dollar bill—I dialed Sarah’s cell.
"Sarah. It's me. He's onto us," I said, my voice shaking uncontrollably.
"Dani! Thank God!" Sarah cried on the other end. "I saw Marcus storming through the lobby looking like a serial killer ten minutes ago! Where are you?"
"I'm at the Chevron on 4th and Elm. Listen to me carefully: grab my emergency cash stash from under my mattress, meet me at the Greyhound station in thirty minutes, and bring the personnel file I texted you photos of."
"Done. Be right there. Dani... what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to finish what that old woman on the bus started," I said, my voice hardening into pure steel. "Marcus wants to play games with my life insurance? Let's see how he likes being audited."
An hour later, sitting in the back booth of a dimly lit 24-hour diner three towns over, Sarah slid a thick manila folder across the sticky laminate table.
"This is everything," Sarah whispered, her eyes darting nervously toward the diner entrance. "The corporate metadata, the old pharmaceutical disciplinary records, and... Dani, look at this last page. It’s a police report from five years ago involving Marcus's first wife."
I slowly pulled out the single sheet of yellowed paper.
Cause of death: Accidental acute heart failure. Investigating detective: Unresolved due to lack of toxicological evidence. Beneficiary of life insurance policy: Marcus Vance.
May you like
The blood drained from my face. This wasn't his first time. He was a professional predator, serial-killing his way through wealthy marriages under the guise of a grieving widower.
"He got away with it once," I whispered, staring at the name on the report. "He's not getting away with it twice."
