Chapter 10 - THE BREAKING POINT
At midnight on Sunday, my private cell phone rang. It was an unrecognized area code, but when I answered, it wasn't Eleanor's shrieking voice or Arthur Finch’s calm baritone.
It was Mike. And he was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Alex... Alex, please, don't hang up," Mike choked out, his voice raw and wheezing. "Please, man. You gotta listen to me. I’m not asking for money. I swear on Dad’s grave I’m not asking for a single dollar."
I sat up on the edge of my bed, the darkness of my living room wrapping around me. "Why are you calling me, Mike?"
"They’re here," Mike whispered, terror coating every syllable. "The loan guys from Gary. They didn't go through the courts, Alex. Mom didn't just borrow from a lender. She borrowed from people who don't care about injunctions or probate law. Two guys in a black Tahoe kicked in the back door twenty minutes ago. They’re tearing up the floorboards in the basement."
My blood went cold. "Where are you?"
"I’m in the crawl space under the garage," he gasped, his teeth audibly chattering. "Mom locked herself in the upstairs bathroom, but they’re screaming at her. They said if they don't get eighty grand in cash tonight, they’re setting the house on fire with her inside."
"Did you call the police, Mike?" I barked.
"They cut the landline, and every time I dial 911, the signal drops out in this crawl space!" he cried. "Alex, Mom lied to me too! She told me you were paying the note! She told me you agreed to handle it as part of Dad’s inheritance! I didn't know she signed your name! I swear to God I didn't know!"
Whether Mike was genuinely ignorant or just terrified for his skin didn't matter in that second. If thugs were inside the house on Elm Street, this was no longer a civil dispute over sweet potatoes or TurboTax jokes. It was a home invasion.
"Stay down," I commanded. "Don't make a sound. I'm calling the precinct commander right now."
I hung up, dialed Arthur’s emergency liaison at the municipal police department, and relayed the exact address, the description of the vehicle, and the fact that an active home invasion was in progress with occupants trapped inside.
May you like
Then, against every instinct of self-preservation, I grabbed my coat, took the elevator down to the garage, and threw myself into my car.
Elm Street was twenty-two minutes away.
