Chapter 7 - Confrontation in the Cellar"You think I came here alone, Dad? Look out the window."
"Stay back, Dad," I said, holding my heavy flashlight like a weapon while tucking Grandmother’s journals firmly under my arm. "I know about Uncle Thomas. I know what you did to his share of the land in 1984."
My father took a slow step down the stairs, the iron bar swinging loosely in his right hand. "Thomas was a drunk and a lunatic. He was going to sell his share of Cedar Grove to developers! He was going to tear this whole family legacy apart! I did what I had to do to protect our heritage!"
"You didn't protect anything!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the cold stone walls. "You stole from your own brother, you stole from your own daughter, and you tried to rob my children of their future! You're not a protector, Dad. You're a thief and a coward!"
" Hand over those journals, Tessa," he demanded, taking two more steps down. The shadows cast by the flashlight made his face look terrifyingly skeletal. "Nobody else needs to read those. We can work out the money. I’ll make Derek sign a confession for the $750,000 loan. I’ll give you full control of the trust right now! Just give me the papers."
"It's too late for deals, Dad."
"I am your father!" he roared, lunging down the final three steps with the iron bar raised above his head.
Wail! Wail! Wail!
Before he could reach me, the loud, piercing sound of police sirens reverberated through the farmhouse above. Blue and red lights flashed through the high, dirty cellar windows, illuminating the dark room in pulsating colors.
My father froze in mid-stride, his face twisting in sudden panic.
"What is that?" he stuttered.
"That’s the Fauquier County Sheriff’s Department," I said calmly, stepping around him toward the stairs. "I told you earlier I had an appointment with a county contractor about the western field today. But I didn't just invite a contractor. I invited the State Police Forensic Unit to perform a ground-penetrating radar scan on the section marked with a red 'X'."
My father dropped the iron bar. It hit the dirt floor with a heavy thud.
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"You... you called the police on your own father?" he whispered, his knees trembling.
"You stopped being my father the moment you let Kelsey tell my children they didn't belong here," I said, looking down at him with zero pity. "Now, go upstairs. They're here for you."
