Chapter 18 - Blood in the Water
The front gates of our courtyard were thrust open with a violent shriek of wrought iron against stone.
Thomas stepped instantly in front of me, his posture shifting into combat readiness in a fraction of a second. "Eleanor, stay inside with Lily."
"No," I said, stepping onto the porch beside him as the rain poured down in blinding sheets.
A battered black sedan was idling at the curb, its headlights glaring through the torrential downpour. Stumbling out of the driver's seat was Beatrice Montgomery.
She wore no makeup. Her expensive silk dress was soaked through, plastered to her frail frame like a shroud. Her hair was wild, whipped into a frenzy by the coastal wind. In her trembling right hand, she held a sodden manila envelope.
"Eleanor!" she screamed over the howling gale, her voice cracked, shrill, and completely unhinged. "Eleanor, you devil! You ruined us! You destroyed my boys!"
Thomas moved down the porch steps, his voice hard as granite. "Beatrice, turn around and get back in your car. The federal marshals have already issued a warrant for your arrest. If you step one foot onto this property, I will physically restrain you until the squad cars arrive."
"Let them come!" Beatrice shrieked, stumbling across the wet flagstones, heedless of the puddles soaking her designer heels. She stopped five paces away, her chest heaving, her eyes wild with madness. "Carter is in county lockup! Julian is being moved to a supermax facility in Georgia! Our bank accounts are frozen! The house on Meeting Street has been padlocked by the IRS! For what? For some muddy water and some rusty cranes?"
I stepped down the stairs, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Thomas in the driving rain.
"Not for muddy water, Beatrice," I said, my voice cutting through the tempest without wavering. "For justice. For five years of lies. For the mockery at your son’s wedding. For raising a champagne glass to celebrate my suffering while you stole my father’s life work."
Beatrice began to laugh—a bitter, hollow, terrifying sound that died in the rain.
"You think this is over, Eleanor?" she wheezed, thrusting the sodden manila envelope toward me. "You think you've won your little fairy tale with your blue-collar harbor king? Look at what Julian left in the safe. Look at what your father really did!"
Thomas snatched the envelope from her hand before she could approach any closer. He ripped it open, shielding the contents from the rain with his broad body.
Inside was a single legal document, dated thirty years ago—long before I had ever met Julian Montgomery. It was a birth certificate from an obscure clinic in coastal Georgia.
"What is this?" Thomas demanded.
May you like
"Read the name, Vance!" Beatrice spat, pointing a trembling, claw-like finger at me. "Your precious wife isn't Charles Ward’s only heir. Julian wasn't just after the harbor. Julian was protecting the family secret! Charles had another child—a son—with my own late sister! Julian was your half-brother's nephew, Eleanor! The trust was never yours alone! There is another heir coming for Vance Logistics... and he’s more ruthless than Julian could ever dream of being!"
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