THE LIGHT BENEATH THE LIES

The blinding headlights of the SUV pinned us against the brick wall of the diner.

I shoved Lucy behind me, pulling the heavy metal cash box out of my purse. It wasn't a weapon, but it was heavy enough to do damage if I swung it hard enough.

“Don't be stupid, Rebecca,” Vanessa sighed, adjusting her grip on her umbrella. She stepped out of the glare of the headlights. She was no longer wearing her elegant emerald gown; she was dressed in a sharp black trench coat, looking entirely at ease in a filthy alleyway with armed men.

“Stay away from my daughter,” I warned, my voice shaking.

“I have absolutely no interest in your daughter,” Vanessa said dismissively. She held out a manicured hand. “I want the flash drive. Hand it over, and I’ll make sure Jonathan makes your deaths quick. Keep playing games, and I’ll let my men have fun with you first.”

My blood ran cold. She knew about the flash drive.

“How did you know my mother had it?” I demanded, stalling for time, desperate to find an exit. The alley was a dead end.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Your mother wasn't as clever as she thought she was. She hired a private investigator seven years ago to look into the inn’s finances. My father’s men intercepted the investigator. He gave up your mother before we put him in the river.”

I felt sick. My mother had known the danger she was in. She had hidden the drive and left the clues for Lucy because she knew she was being watched.

“Jonathan searched her house after she died,” Vanessa continued, her voice bored. “We couldn't find the drive. We assumed she destroyed it. Until Jonathan saw your bratty daughter pull that key out of her bag tonight.”

Vanessa snapped her fingers. Two of the armed men stepped forward.

“The drive, Rebecca. Now.”

I looked at the men, then at Vanessa. If I gave them the drive, we were dead. If I didn't, we were dead.

I gripped the heavy metal cash box.

“Run, Lucy,” I whispered fiercely.

I didn't wait for the men to reach me. I threw the heavy metal box with all my strength directly at the windshield of the SUV.

The box smashed into the glass with a deafening crack, shattering it completely. The driver shouted in surprise, throwing his hands over his face.

The two armed men flinched, raising their guns defensively.

It bought me exactly two seconds.

I grabbed Lucy’s hand and bolted toward a narrow gap between the diner’s dumpster and the brick wall. We squeezed through, the rusted metal scraping against my ribs, and burst out onto the adjacent side street.

“Stop them!” Vanessa shrieked from the alley.

We sprinted down the rain-slicked pavement. Sirens wailed in the distance, but I knew they weren't coming for us. We were in an industrial park on the edge of the city. Empty warehouses and chain-link fences surrounded us.

I heard the heavy pounding of boots hitting the pavement behind us.

“Mom, I can’t run anymore!” Lucy gasped, her small legs failing her, the oversized flannel shirt dragging her down.

I pulled her toward a row of parked cars outside an abandoned manufacturing plant.

“Get under the cars!” I hissed.

We scrambled beneath a rusted sedan, pressing our bodies flat against the wet, oil-stained asphalt. I held my breath, pulling Lucy tightly against my chest.

The heavy boots pounded past us, splashing through the puddles. Flashlight beams swept the dark street.

“Check the loading docks!” one of the men shouted, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

They moved further down the street, their footsteps fading.

I exhaled a shaky breath, but I didn't move. We couldn't stay under the car forever, but we had nowhere to go. No money. No phone. And the entire police force was likely in Jonathan’s pocket.

Suddenly, the rusted sedan we were hiding beneath shifted slightly.

A heavy, metallic thud echoed above us.

Someone had opened the trunk.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wrapping my arms around Lucy, preparing for the worst.

“Hey.”

A harsh whisper cut through the rain.

I opened my eyes. A face was peering down at us from the side of the car.

It wasn't one of Vanessa’s men.

It was the lighting technician from the hotel. The young man who had turned off the chandeliers for Lucy.

He was wearing a dark hoodie, drenched in rain, looking absolutely terrified.

“Get in the trunk,” he whispered urgently. “Hurry!”

I stared at him, completely paralyzed.

“Lady, they’re coming back!” he hissed, glancing down the street. “Get in the trunk before they see you!”

I didn't have a choice. I scrambled out from under the car, dragging Lucy with me, and threw us both into the cavernous trunk of the old sedan.

The technician slammed the trunk shut, plunging us into absolute darkness.

A moment later, the engine roared to life. The car lurched forward, speeding away into the night.

I held Lucy tight as we bounced over the potholes in the dark trunk.

“Mom, who is he?” Lucy cried quietly.

“I don't know,” I whispered, my heart hammering.

Ten minutes later, the car came to a screeching halt. The engine died.

I braced myself, searching the dark for anything I could use as a weapon. I found an old tire iron and gripped it tightly.

The trunk popped open.

The harsh glare of a single, flickering fluorescent bulb blinded me.

We were in a dilapidated, empty mechanic’s garage. The lighting technician stood over the trunk, his hands raised in surrender as he saw the tire iron in my hand.

“Whoa, whoa, relax,” he said, stepping back. “I’m not with them.”

I climbed out of the trunk, keeping the tire iron raised, and helped Lucy out.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “Why did you help us?”

The young man pulled back the hood of his sweatshirt. He looked no older than twenty-two, his face pale and exhausted.

“My name is David,” he said, wiping the rain from his face. “And I helped you because I’ve been trying to get close to your husband for two years.”

I frowned, keeping the tire iron leveled at his chest. “Why?”

David looked at me, a profound, heavy grief settling into his young eyes.

“Because three years ago, Jonathan Ashford bought the construction company my father worked for,” David said quietly. “He used the company to launder money. When my dad found out and threatened to go to the police, Jonathan arranged an 'accident' at a work site.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“The police called it a tragic fall,” David continued, his voice hardening. “But I know they pushed him. I got a job with the event company handling the hotel opening just to get inside the building and plant bugs in Jonathan’s office.”

He pointed at the large leather purse hanging off my shoulder.

“I was listening to the feed from his office tonight,” David said. “I heard the phone call he made to Vanessa after you left the hotel. He told her about the inn, and the flash drive. He told her to burn you alive.”

I lowered the tire iron, staring at the young man who had just saved our lives.

“I followed them to the inn, but I was too late to stop the fire,” David explained. “I saw you get out of the diner before Vanessa’s men did.”

He stepped closer, his eyes intense.

“You have the flash drive, Mrs. Ashford. You have the proof that can destroy him.”

“The police won't touch him,” I said, exhaustion finally threatening to pull me under. “He owns the local precinct. My mother’s note warned me.”

“I know,” David nodded grimly. “That’s why we aren't going to the police.”

He walked over to a rusted workbench and pulled away a heavy canvas tarp.

Sitting on the bench was a massive, high-powered server tower and three glowing computer monitors.

“I’m a cybersecurity student at Illinois Tech,” David said, sitting down at the keyboard. “Hand me the flash drive. We aren't going to give the ledgers to the cops. We’re going to give them to the one group of people Jonathan is terrified of.”

“Who?” I asked.