Chapter 3 - The Broken Alibi
Julian lunged forward with terrifying speed, closing the distance between us before I could swing the metal pool pole. I shoved Maya hard toward Mrs. Harris’s fence, shouting, "Run, Maya! Climb!"
The heavy blade slashed through the air, missing my shoulder by inches and embedding itself into the plastic patio chair behind me. I brought the pool pole down in a desperate arc, catching Julian squarely across the collarbone. He grunted, stumbling back, but the blow only seemed to amuse him.
"You think you can fight me, David? I watched you in the courtroom during your custody battle. You're a desk jockey. A paper pusher," Julian mocked, lunging again.
This time, the knife sliced a deep, burning line across my forearm. I bit back a scream, kicking out with my steel-toed work boot and catching him in the stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air. I didn't wait to see what he’d do next; I turned and sprinted toward the fence where Maya was struggling to pull herself over.
"Daddy, I can't reach!" she sobbed, her fingers slipping against the wooden slats.
I grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her over the top just as Julian roared behind us. I scrambled over the fence after her, tumbling onto Mrs. Harris’s manicured lawn as Julian slammed his fists against the wood on the other side.
"You can't run forever, David! The police around here are friends of mine!" Julian’s voice echoed through the neighborhood, perfectly masked by the privacy panels.
Mrs. Harris’s back door flew open, and the elderly woman stood there with a heavy-duty landline phone pressed to her ear, her face pale as ghost. "I heard the screaming. I dialed 911 through the landline—it bypassed the jammer. Troopers are five minutes out."
"We need to get into the house," I panted, clutching my bleeding arm. "Julian has Elena trapped inside. He framed her for everything."
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Mrs. Harris stared at me in horror, then nodded grimly, stepping aside to let us in. But as I locked her back door behind us, a terrifying realization hit me: Julian wasn't panicking. A man who was truly cornered would run or beg. Julian had smiled.
And then I remembered the phone call I had received from Elena two nights ago—the one where she sounded strangely slurred, telling me not to come over no matter what.
