Chapter 15 - The Trap Springs
My hand trembled as I reached into the pocket of my cardigan, where I had kept the heavy-duty burner phone clutched in a death grip all night.
My thumb hovered over the keypad. Speed dial two. Federal marshals.
If I called, the backup units stationed down the road would take at least three minutes to arrive. Three minutes was an eternity when someone was trying to break through a kitchen window with a knife.
Outside, the blade clicked against the latch. The window began to slide upward with a faint squeak.
Elena’s dark eyes scanned the empty kitchen, her lips parting in a cold, triumphant smile as she prepared to slip inside.
I didn't press speed dial two.
Instead, I stepped out from the shadows of the doorway, switched on the glaring overhead kitchen light, and pointed the heavy cast-iron skillet I had quietly lifted from the stove straight at her face.
“Step away from the glass, Elena,” I said, my voice echoing off the tile walls with absolute, crystal-clear fury.
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Elena froze, blinking against the sudden brightness. Her dark hair clung to her wet cheeks, and for a second, the mask of the untouchable corporate criminal flickered, revealing sheer, unadulterated shock.
And then, from the front driveway outside, the deafening roar of a police siren shattered the midnight air as red and blue lights flooded the entire house.
