I signed the transfer papers, Sarah. If I didn't, Derrick said he would turn off my oxygen tank, my mother whispered, pressing a cold metal micro-cassette recorder into my hand inside the locked...
The clock on my temporary apartment wall read 1:15 PM. Gabriel and I had been working non-stop, piecing together a strategy, but the urgency was suffocating. I was still outlining the legal precedents for revoking a forged power of attorney when my phone vibrated. It was Clara, her voice a terrified whisper.
“They’re here,” she breathed. “Two vans. Private security.”
My blood ran cold. Derrick had found her. He was moving, fast and ruthless, to erase any remaining evidence. I grabbed my jacket and sprinted out the door, racing down the stairs of the old brownstone.
I burst onto the sidewalk just as two black, unmarked security vans pulled up to the curb outside my apartment building. Three armed guards, clad in dark tactical gear, fanned out around the entrance.
Derrick Caldwell stood near the glass doors, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. He held a thick stack of court paperwork.
“Looks like your little accomplice ran her mouth,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. He gestured to the guards. “Relocate Miss Caldwell. Standard procedure for a disgruntled former employee.”
My gaze darted past him. An ambulance, its lights dark, was backing up to the loading dock of the Montgomery Financial Tower, just a block away. Its rear doors were open, waiting.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, my voice raw.
Derrick’s smile widened, revealing a flash of genuine cruelty. “An emergency ex-parte court order, Sarah. It grants private transport officers permission to relocate Eleanor to a long-term memory facility. In rural Indiana, no less. Very quiet. Very isolated.”
He pointed to the ambulance. “Your mother is being moved. Effective immediately. For her own safety, of course.”
The guards blocked my path, their arms crossed. One held up the court order. I couldn’t get past them. I couldn’t reach my mother.
Derrick was accelerating his timeline. He wasn’t waiting for the board meeting, or the shareholder gala. He was clearing the building, eradicating all loose ends, before anyone could react.
He knew I had the tape. He knew about Clara. He was eliminating his biggest weaknesses, one by one.
He wanted my mother gone. Out of Chicago, out of reach, before the gala the following evening. He wanted her silence. Permanently.
“You won’t get away with this,” I snarled, my hands clenching into fists.
Derrick merely chuckled, a dry, dismissive sound. He checked his watch. “The ambulance needs to depart in precisely seven minutes, Captain. Wouldn’t want to obstruct emergency medical transport, would we? That’s another federal offense.”
He was untouchable, wrapped in layers of legal paperwork. But I had one last card to play. And this time, it wouldn’t be whispered.
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