Chapter 8 - [THE DEVIL IN THE HANGAR]
The Palwaukee airfield was deserted, a stretch of wet black tarmac reflecting the amber security lights.
Hangar 4 was at the far end, its massive corrugated doors slightly cracked open. A sleek private jet idled on the runway just outside.
“I’m going in first,” I said.
Luca grabbed my arm. “Absolutely not. It’s a trap.”
“I know it is,” I said, my voice surprisingly calm. “But if he sees you, he’ll shoot Katie immediately. He wants me and the diary. I need to draw his attention. You need to take the shot.”
Luca stared at me. The wind whipped rain around us. He reached out, his warm hand cupping my freezing cheek.
“If anything happens to you, Emma,” he whispered fiercely, “I will burn this city to the ground.”
“Just don’t miss,” I told him.
I slipped out of the SUV, clutching the manila envelope against my chest.
I walked toward the hangar. The wind was deafening, but as I slipped through the heavy metal doors, the silence inside was suffocating.
The hangar was cavernous, smelling of aviation fuel and cold steel.
In the center of the concrete floor sat Katie, tied to a metal chair.
Standing beside her was Richard. He was no longer the arrogant businessman in the tailored suit. He looked feral, his clothes disheveled, holding a matte-black pistol against my sister’s temple.
Vanessa stood a few feet away, clutching an expensive leather travel bag. She looked pale and terrified.
“Well, well,” Richard called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. “The brave little housemaid. Put the envelope on the floor and kick it over.”
“Let her go first,” I yelled over the distant roar of the jet engine outside.
Richard laughed. “You aren’t in a position to negotiate.” He cocked the gun. The metallic click echoed sharply.
“Stop!” Vanessa screamed, stepping forward. “Richard, you said no more killing! We get the diary and we leave!”
“Shut up, Vanessa,” Richard snapped. “You’ve botched everything since day one. If you had just kept the girl at the mansion, none of this would be happening.”
“It’s here,” I said quickly, holding the envelope up. “It’s Clara’s diary. The proof of what you did. It’s all here.”
I slowly placed it on the concrete floor and kicked it. It slid across the smooth surface, stopping a few feet from Richard.
Richard didn’t take the gun off Katie. “Vanessa. Pick it up.”
Vanessa scurried forward on her high heels. She scooped up the envelope, ripping it open. She pulled out the leather diary.
“Is it real?” Richard demanded.
Vanessa flipped through the pages. “Yes. It’s her handwriting.”
“Good,” Richard smiled. He looked at me. His eyes were dead.
“I really am sorry, Emma. You’re a pretty girl. But your father was a thorn in my side, and now you are too.”
He pointed the gun away from Katie and aimed it directly at my chest.
“Goodbye.”
BANG.
The gunshot was deafening.
I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the impact. Waiting for the pain.
It never came.
Instead, I heard a wet gasp.
I opened my eyes.
Richard was standing frozen. He looked down at his chest. A dark red stain was blooming rapidly across his white shirt.
He collapsed to his knees, dropping the gun.
Behind him, emerging from the shadows of a stack of shipping crates, stood Luca. His weapon was still raised, smoke curling from the barrel.
Vanessa screamed, dropping the diary. She turned to run toward the open hangar door.
But suddenly, red and blue lights flooded the hangar entrance. Sirens wailed into the night.
Three police cruisers skidded onto the tarmac, blocking the jet. Armed officers poured out, weapons drawn.
“Police! Drop your weapons! Hands in the air!”
Vanessa froze, slowly raising her trembling hands, sobbing hysterically.
I didn’t care about her. I didn’t care about Richard bleeding out on the floor.
I ran to Katie.
I fell to my knees, ripping the tape off her mouth and frantically untying the ropes binding her wrists.
“Emma! Emma!” she sobbed, burying her face into my neck.
“I’ve got you,” I cried, holding her so tight I thought I might break her. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Footsteps approached. Heavy and steady.
Luca knelt beside us.
He didn’t look at the police arresting Vanessa. He didn’t look at the paramedics rushing in for Richard.
He looked at me.
He reached out, his hand gently touching my shoulder, then moving to cup the back of Katie’s head.
“It’s over,” Luca said softly. His voice was thick with emotion. “I swear to you, it’s over.”
An officer walked over to us. He looked at Luca with immense respect.
“Mr. Moretti. The paramedics say Vale is going to make it. He’ll face trial.” The officer held up a clear evidence bag containing the diary and the cassette tape. “And with this, he’s never seeing the outside of a cell.”
Luca nodded. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
The officer walked away.
Luca helped Katie to her feet, supporting her weight. Then he offered his hand to me.
I looked at his outstretched hand. It was strong, marked with faint scars and ink. A hand that had taken a life to save mine.
I placed my hand in his. He pulled me up, and he didn’t let go.
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“Come on,” Luca said softly, his thumb tracing my knuckles. “Let’s go home.”
TITLE: THE VELVET BOX IN THE RAIN
