Chapter 5 - THE STAIN ON THE FLOORBOARDS
“Murder weapon?” I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.
The alleyway suddenly felt entirely too small.
Linda rushed toward the truck, her eyes frantically scanning the interior.
“Olivia, get out. Now.”
Madison and I scrambled out of the cab.
Tyler was still sitting on the asphalt, his face buried in his hands. He looked up, confused.
“What murder weapon?” Tyler choked out. “Dad just said he needed the truck to settle the accounts!”
Linda ignored him. She pulled a penlight from her purse and crouched beside the driver’s side door.
She ran the beam of light along the floorboards, pulling up the heavy rubber mat Grandpa and I had painstakingly scrubbed months ago.
“Your grandfather told me before he died,” Linda said, her voice shaking. “He said David came to him in the middle of the night, covered in blood. That was the night David stole the bracelet.”
I felt physically sick.
“Whose blood?” Madison asked, grabbing my hand.
Linda didn’t answer. She was shining the light on a dark, rusted patch of metal near the gas pedal.
I had assumed it was water damage. I had sanded it down and painted over it.
“It’s not here,” Linda muttered. “He said he hid it behind the radio.”
I froze.
“I replaced the radio,” I said. “Three months ago.”
Linda whipped her head around. “Did you find anything behind the dash?”
I thought back to that hot Saturday afternoon.
“There was a heavy wrench,” I said slowly. “A massive steel pipe wrench. I thought Grandpa just dropped it down there by accident. I put it in my toolbox in Dad’s garage.”
Linda closed her eyes, letting out a trembling breath.
“David isn't trying to sell the truck to pay a debt, Olivia. He’s trying to destroy the truck to destroy the evidence.”
Tyler scrambled to his feet. “Evidence of what? Aunt Linda, tell me what my father did!”
Linda looked at him with immense pity.
“Ten years ago, a loan shark named Joey ‘The Rat’ Russo disappeared. He was the man your father owed money to before he got involved with the Vieri family.”
Madison gasped.
“Dad killed him?” Tyler asked, horrified.
“With a steel pipe wrench,” Linda said. “He hid the weapon in your grandfather's truck, knowing your grandfather loved that truck too much to ever let it be searched or sold.”
My mind was spinning.
I had been restoring a crime scene.
I had been sitting in the very seat where my father had hidden a murder weapon.
“Where is the toolbox now?” Linda demanded.
“It’s in the garage at home,” I said.
Linda pulled out her phone. “We have to get there before David realizes the tow truck isn't coming back. If he finds that wrench, he’ll destroy it.”
We piled into Linda’s car, leaving the truck hidden in the alley.
Tyler sat in the back with Madison, completely silent, his world entirely shattered.
The drive back to the house took four minutes, but it felt like four hours.
As we pulled onto our street, my blood ran cold.
The garage door was wide open.
All the lights were on.
And my toolbox was tipped over on the driveway, tools scattered everywhere.
“He found it,” I whispered.
Linda parked the car on the lawn, and we rushed out.
The front door of the house was wide open.
Inside, we heard Mom screaming.
“David, put it down! Please, you’re terrifying me!”
We ran into the living room.
Mom was backed against the wall, clutching her chest, sobbing.
Dad was standing in the center of the room.
He was holding the heavy steel pipe wrench.
He looked up as we ran in, his eyes wild and desperate.
“You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you, Olivia?” Dad snarled.
He raised the wrench, pointing it at me.
“You had to fix the damn truck. You had to pull everything apart.”
“David, drop the weapon,” Linda said firmly, stepping in front of me. “The police are already on their way.”
Dad laughed. It was a horrible, broken sound.
“The police?” he mocked. “I’m not going to prison, Linda.”
He turned the wrench in his hands.
“But before I leave, there’s something Olivia needs to know.”
He looked directly at me.
“You think your grandfather was a saint? You think he was protecting you from me?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, faded photograph.
He threw it onto the floor.
It landed right at Madison’s feet.
Madison looked down at it, and her breath hitched.
“That’s my mother,” Madison whispered.
Dad smiled cruelly.
May you like
“Ask your precious Aunt Linda who was driving the car that hit Madison’s parents, Olivia. Ask her why Grandpa really gave you that truck.”
TITLE: THE MAN IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT
