Chapter 9
The gunshot echoed through the warehouse.
I flinched.
Waited for the pain.
It never came.
Daniel looked down.
At his arm.
Blood spreading.
The gun clattered to the floor.
FBI agents swarmed from every direction.
“DROP IT! DOWN ON THE GROUND!”
Daniel fell to his knees.
Clutching his arm.
Screaming in pain and rage.
Agents surrounded him.
Cuffed him.
Led him away.
He looked at me as he passed.
Pure hatred.
“Father will kill you. He’ll kill all of you.”
Agent Torres ran to me.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded.
Shaking.
But alive.
“He didn’t come,” I said. “Arthur didn’t come.”
“He knew,” Agent Torres said. “Or at least suspected. He sent Daniel instead. As a test. Or as a sacrifice.”
He looked grim.
“Arthur Carter is more dangerous than we thought. And now he knows we’re onto him. He’ll go to ground. He’ll disappear. And we might never find him.”
“Then we need to find him first,” I said.
We went back to the safe house.
Rebecca, Thomas, and Nick were waiting.
Relieved to see me alive.
But the victory felt hollow.
Arthur was still free.
And he was more dangerous than ever.
Rebecca paced the room.
“He won’t run,” she said. “Not really. Not permanently. Father doesn’t run from anything. He’ll hide. He’ll regroup. And then he’ll strike back. Hard. At everything we love. Everything we care about.”
She stopped pacing.
“I know where he’ll go. When he’s scared. When he needs to think. He has a property. Up in the mountains. Remote. Nobody knows about it but family. He goes there when he wants to disappear. When he wants to plan.”
“Can you find it?” Agent Torres said.
Rebecca nodded.
“I can find it. But we need to move fast. If he’s there… he won’t stay long. Not now that he knows we’re coming.”
We left immediately.
Drove three hours north.
Into the mountains.
Deep into forest.
No cell service.
No signs of civilization.
Until we saw it.
A large cabin.
Hidden among the trees.
Dark.
Quiet.
But there was a car in the driveway.
Arthur’s car.
Agent Torres signaled his team.
They surrounded the cabin.
Quietly.
Professionally.
Then they moved in.
Breached the door.
“FBI! ARTHUR CARTER! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”
Silence.
Then a single gunshot.
From inside.
The agents rushed in.
We waited outside.
Heart pounding.
Minutes later.
Agent Torres came out.
His face grim.
“He’s dead.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“Self-inflicted gunshot wound,” he said. “He was in the study. Left a note.”
He handed me a piece of paper.
Arthur’s handwriting.
I read it.
“To whoever finds this.
You think you’ve won. You think you’ve destroyed everything I built.
But you’re wrong.
I’ve made arrangements.
Everything I’ve built will continue.
Long after I’m gone.
And Valerie Carter…
If you’re reading this…
I’ve made sure you’ll never be free.
You’ll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.
Wondering.
Waiting.
Because the people who work for me…
They don’t stop working when I die.
They get their final instructions.
And they carry them out.
Enjoy your victory.
While it lasts.
Arthur Carter.”
I lowered the note.
Cold.
Terrified.
He was dead.
But his threats would live on.
Agent Torres looked at the note.
Then at me.
“We’ll find them. Everyone who worked for him. We’ll dismantle the entire organization. I promise you.”
But I knew.
Promises weren’t enough.
Arthur Carter didn’t make empty threats.
And somehow…
Some way…
He would find a way to hurt us from beyond the grave.
We drove back down the mountain.
Quiet.
Somber.
Arthur was dead.
Daniel was in custody.
Sarah and Frank were in custody.
The organization was crumbling.
But I couldn’t celebrate.
Not yet.
Not with Arthur’s final threat hanging over us.
We returned to the hotel.
Exhausted.
I went to the boys’ room.
They were asleep.
Safe.
For now.
I kissed both their foreheads.
Walked back to my room.
Sat on the bed.
Stared at the wall.
And then I noticed something.
An envelope.
On my pillow.
Where there had been nothing before.
I picked it up.
My name on the front.
In Arthur’s handwriting.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
And a photograph.
The photograph was of me.
Taken that morning.
Outside the FBI building.
The note said:
“First instruction carried out.
We know where you are.
We know where your son is.
We know where the boy Nick is.
And we know where Rebecca’s family is.
Arthur always pays his debts.
Even from the grave.
May you like
Sleep tight, Valerie.
The game has only just begun.”
