Chapter 8 - The Cornered Predator
Later that evening,
Aaron drove me back to my sister Sarah’s house in the quiet suburbs.
Lily was sitting on the living room rug,
playing happily with colored blocks while Sarah prepared dinner in the kitchen.
When Lily saw me walk through the door,
she jumped up and ran into my open arms.
"Mommy!"
she giggled,
hugging my waist tightly.
"Aunt Sarah let me bake chocolate cookies!"
"That sounds wonderful,
sweetheart,"
I smiled,
kissing her forehead gently.
Aaron stood near the front doorway,
keeping a vigilant watch through the window blinds.
"Everything quiet here,
Sarah?"
Aaron asked,
turning his head toward the kitchen.
"It was quiet all afternoon,"
Sarah replied,
wiping her hands on a towel as she walked out.
"Until about twenty minutes ago."
"I noticed a black sedan driving slowly down our street twice."
Aaron’s posture immediately straightened,
his military instincts kicking into high gear.
"Did you get a license plate number?"
he asked smoothly.
"No,"
Sarah said,
frowning.
"The windows were tinted dark."
Before Aaron could reply,
a loud,
aggressive pounding rattled the wooden front door.
"Clara!"
a voice shrieked from the porch outside.
"Open this door right now,
you scheming little bitch!"
It was Patricia’s voice,
shrill,
hysterical,
and completely unhinged.
Lily squeaked in fear,
instantly hiding behind my legs.
Aaron immediately stepped in front of us,
his hand reaching beneath his jacket where his service sidearm was holstered.
"Sarah,
take Lily into the back bedroom right now and lock the door,"
Aaron commanded,
his tone leaving no room for argument.
Sarah grabbed Lily’s hand and rushed down the hallway,
closing the heavy bedroom door with a sharp click.
I stood beside Aaron,
my heart beating steadily under the control of the pacemaker,
feeling no panic,
only pure,
cold anger.
"Clara!"
Patricia screamed again,
banging her fists against the window glass beside the door.
"You set Daniel up!"
"The police are at his hotel!"
"You planted those lies in his safe!"
Aaron unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the front door open,
stepping out onto the porch.
Patricia was standing on the welcome mat,
her hair disheveled,
her expensive designer coat crooked,
and her eyes bloodshot with rage.
"Where is she?"
Patricia yelled,
trying to push past Aaron.
"Where is that ungrateful little parasite?"
"She destroyed my son’s life!"
"Ma'am,"
Aaron said,
his voice like a wall of solid ice.
"You are trespassing on private property."
"Get out of my way,
you fake soldier!"
Patricia spat,
her face contorted with hatred.
"You think because you put on a green uniform you can ruin a good family?"
"Daniel is a respected businessman!"
"Your son is a toxicological terrorist,"
Aaron replied coldly,
stepping down one step,
forcing Patricia to look up at him.
"The police have recovered the synthetic S-Atenolol from his floor safe."
"They have also recovered the wiretap recordings from Lily’s bedroom."
Patricia’s hysterical shouting suddenly cut off.
Her face drained of all color,
her mouth opening and closing like a fish caught out of water.
"Wiretaps?"
she stammered,
her arrogance instantly vanishing,
replaced by a flicker of pure panic.
"He...
he told me those were just security systems..."
"You knew,"
I said,
stepping out onto the porch behind Aaron,
looking down at the woman who had terrorized me for years.
"You sat in that courtroom,
Patricia,"
I said,
my voice ringing out clearly in the evening air.
"You called me a liar."
"You called me dramatic while your son was slowly killing me."
"You are just as guilty as he is."
"You little brat!"
Patricia shrieked,
losing her mind completely and lunging toward me with her nails clawed out.
Before she could even take two steps,
Aaron grabbed her wrist with lightning-fast military reflexes,
twisting her arm back smoothly and forcing her down onto her knees on the porch floor.
"Attempting to assault a state witness on federal escrow property,"
Aaron announced calmly as Patricia howled in pain.
Sirens suddenly wailed down the street,
red and blue lights illuminating the dark suburban trees.
Two police cruisers pulled up onto the curb,
their tires screeching against the asphalt.
Detective Miller and three armed officers leaped out,
their weapons drawn.
"Police!"
Detective Miller shouted.
"Keep your hands where we can see them!"
"Officer!"
Patricia screamed,
writhing on the ground.
"Arrest this man!"
"He’s breaking my arm!"
Aaron released her wrist as officers stepped onto the porch,
pulling Patricia up to her feet and slapping steel handcuffs around her wrists.
"Patricia Vance,"
Detective Miller declared,
reading from a laminated card.
"You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit attempted murder,"
"obstruction of justice,"
"and felony witness intimidation."
"Conspiracy?"
Patricia screamed,
trying to pull away from the officers.
"I didn't do anything!"
"It was Daniel!"
"It was all Daniel’s idea!"
"He told me she had a bad heart!"
"He told me the pills were just to make her quiet!"
"Save it for the District Attorney,
ma'am,"
Detective Miller snapped,
shoving her into the back of the police cruiser.
As the officer closed the door,
Patricia looked through the glass,
her eyes wide with terror as she was driven away into the night.
I stood on the porch,
watching the tail lights disappear down the road.
"She turned on her own son in less than ten seconds,"
I said,
shaking my head in amazement.
"Cowards always betray each other when the light hits them,
Clara,"
Aaron said gently,
turning to look at me.
"Now,"
he added,
May you like
a sharp edge returning to his tone,
"there’s only one person left to catch."
