Chapter 10 - The Midnight Sabotage and the Broken Woodwork
Two nights after the eviction, a sudden thunderstorm rolled over Savannah, bringing sheets of heavy rain and howling winds that whipped through the Spanish moss.
At 2:15 AM, the perimeter motion sensors near the rear workshop triggered a silent alarm in the security monitoring booth Alvin had installed near the carriage house.
Alvin was awake instantly. Slipping on a dark jacket, he met the head of his private security detail, a former military contractor named Miller, in the ground-floor hallway.
"Someone breached the rear fence near the old lumber shed," Miller whispered, checking his tablet. "Two individuals carrying gasoline canisters."
"Julian Caldwell and Derek," Alvin guessed, his voice hardening into absolute ice. "They’re trying to burn the evidence before the grand jury convenes on Monday."
"We have four armed operatives surrounding the workshop perimeter right now," Miller said. "Say the word."
"Don't shoot unless they draw weapons," Alvin commanded. "Trap them inside the workshop. Let them commit the felony on camera."
Alvin and Miller moved through the covered breezeway under the cover of the pouring rain. Inside the historic woodworking shop, the smell of gasoline was already thick in the air.
Two figures wearing rain ponchos were sloshing fuel across Manuel’s vintage workbenches and the stacks of seasoned heart-pine lumber.
"Hurry up, Derek!" hissed a man with a heavy Florida accent—Julian Caldwell. "Pour it all over the main support beams! If this place burns, the historic preservation liens are voided, and the insurance payout will cover the debt to Marcus Kane!"
Derek was trembling, holding a red fuel can, his voice shaking with terror. "Julian, this is wrong... Dad built these workbenches by hand... this wood is over a hundred years old..."
"Your father put my sister in jail, you coward!" Julian snarled, striking a lighter. "Pour the gas, or I’ll leave you here to burn with it!"
Before the flame could touch the floor, the heavy wooden doors of the workshop were kicked wide open.
Blinding tactical spotlights flooded the room, illuminating Julian and Derek in stark, unforgiving brilliance.
"Drop the lighter!" Miller’s voice bellowed, backed by three laser sights centered squarely on Julian’s chest.
Julian gasped, dropping the lighter onto the damp concrete floor where it harmlessly extinguished in a puddle of rainwater. He raised his hands instantly.
Derek collapsed onto his knees among the sawdust and gasoline, covering his face with his oil-stained hands and sobbing uncontrollably.
Alvin stepped through the doorway, looking down at his younger brother with utter, absolute disgust.
"You really came back to burn our father’s life’s work, Derek?" Alvin asked quietly.
Derek looked up through his tears, his voice breaking into a pathetic whine. "Alvin... Julian told me we had no choice... Kane was going to kill us..."
"Marcus Kane has already been arrested by the FBI for racketeering and extortion," Alvin said cold-bloodedly. "You came here to commit arson for a ghost."
Inspector Thomas and four sheriff’s deputies stepped out from behind the security team, stepping forward with handcuffs drawn.
"Julian Caldwell, Derek Serrano," Inspector Thomas announced, his voice ringing above the sound of the falling rain. "You are under arrest for attempted aggravated arson, conspiracy to commit insurance fraud, and violation of a permanent protective order."
As the steel cuffs clicked around Derek’s wrists, Manuel stepped out from the breezeway, holding an umbrella over Carmen.
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Derek looked at his mother one last time. "Mom... Mom, please tell them!"
Carmen didn't yell. She didn't curse. She simply pulled her coat tighter around herself, turned her back on her younger son, and walked back into the warmth of her home.
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