Chapter 4 - THE DEVIL IN THE DETAILS
I stared at the photograph of my son.
The rain soaked the edges of the Polaroid, blurring the red ink.
Give it back.
Panic, cold and sharp, pierced my chest.
I grabbed Leo’s hand so tightly he winced.
“Mom, you’re hurting me.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Get in the car.”
I rushed him toward the black SUV.
Marco had stepped out of the driver’s side and was standing in the rain, watching us closely.
He saw the terror in my eyes.
“Get him in the back,” Marco ordered, opening the heavy armored door.
I practically shoved Leo into the leather backseat, securing his seatbelt before climbing into the front.
I handed the wet Polaroid to Marco.
He turned on the interior dome light and stared at the photo.
His jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck pulled tight.
“Sabrina,” he breathed.
“She had someone watch him,” I choked out, tears finally breaking free.
“She knows where he goes to school. She knows exactly how to get to him.”
Marco crushed the photograph in his fist.
He picked up his phone and hit a speed dial.
“Paul. Go to Sabrina’s room. Now.”
There was a pause.
“Sir,” Paul’s voice came through the speaker. “I’m already here. The room is empty.”
“What do you mean empty? I told you to lock down the estate!”
“She went out the window, sir. Down the trellis. She’s gone. But... she left something on the bed.”
“What?”
“A file, sir. It has Tessa’s name on it.”
Marco hung up.
He put the SUV in gear and tore away from the curb, tires screeching against the wet asphalt.
“We’re going back to the estate. It’s the safest place for you and the boy tonight. I have twenty armed men on the perimeter.”
I looked over my shoulder.
Leo was sitting quietly, sensing the tension, gripping his backpack tightly to his chest.
“Mom? Are we in trouble?”
“No, sweetheart,” I lied smoothly. “Mr. Santoro is just helping us out.”
When we arrived back at the mansion, the atmosphere had completely shifted.
The luxury of the engagement party was gone.
The house was a fortress. Men in dark suits stood at the doors, earpieces glowing in the dim light.
Mrs. Walsh met us in the foyer.
She immediately took Leo’s hand with a warm, grandmotherly smile.
“Hello, young man. I hear you like chocolate chip cookies. We have a whole plate fresh from the oven in the kitchen.”
Leo looked at me for permission. I nodded.
As Mrs. Walsh led him away, Marco turned to Paul, who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs holding a manila folder.
Marco took the folder and walked into his private study, gesturing for me to follow.
He closed the heavy oak doors, locking us in.
He threw the folder onto his massive mahogany desk.
“Open it.”
I stepped forward, my left arm throbbing intensely now that the adrenaline was fading.
I opened the cover.
Inside were police reports. Autopsy photos. Insurance claims.
All regarding my husband, David.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, looking at a picture of David’s crushed Honda Civic.
Marco stepped beside me, pointing to a highlighted section on the police report.
“Read the license plate of the truck that hit him.”
I squinted at the text.
PA Plate: JKL-902.
“It says the truck was registered to Santoro Freight.”
I stepped back, looking at Marco with wide eyes.
“Your company hit him?”
“That’s what the Ashfords wanted the police to believe,” Marco said, his voice hard.
“Three years ago, one of my freight trucks was stolen from the yard. Two days later, it was used in a hit-and-run that killed a mechanic. David Grant.”
Marco placed his large hands on the desk, leaning forward.
“I thought it was a random tragedy. But looking at this... David worked for Marcus Ashford. David had my wife’s stolen key. And then David was killed by a truck with my company’s name on the side.”
It hit me like a physical blow.
“The Ashfords killed him,” I gasped.
“They found out he kept the key instead of giving it to them. They killed him to silence him, and they framed your company for it.”
Marco nodded slowly.
“Sabrina knew exactly who you were when the staffing agency placed you here ten months ago. She requested you specifically, didn’t she?”
My mind flashed back to my interview. The agency rep had said the lady of the house saw my photo and felt a connection.
“Yes,” I breathed. “She wanted me here.”
“She brought you here to watch you,” Marco said. “She knew David had given you the key. She just didn’t know where you kept it. Until tonight.”
Suddenly, a heavy knock echoed through the study doors.
“Dad! Open up!”
It was Julian.
Marco frowned and unlocked the door.
Julian burst into the room. His tuxedo shirt was unbuttoned, his face bruised, and his knuckles bloody.
“They’re coming,” Julian gasped, holding his side.
“Sabrina’s father. Marcus Ashford. He’s not waiting. He knows you found out about the key. He’s sending a hit squad to the estate tonight.”
Marco grabbed his son by the shoulders.
“How do you know this?”
Julian reached into his pocket.
His hand was shaking as he pulled out a heavy, gold pocket watch.
“Because Sabrina gave me this before she ran. She told me to get out of the house before midnight.”
Julian flipped the gold watch open.
He looked at me with tears in his eyes.
“Tessa... she didn’t just give me the watch. Look what’s inside.”
I stepped forward.
Tucked inside the lid of the watch was a beautiful, ancient silver rosary.
My grandmother’s rosary.
May you like
The one David had hanging from his rearview mirror the night he died.
TITLE: The Sins Of The Father
