CHAPTER 7 — SIXTY SECONDS
CHAPTER 7 — SIXTY SECONDS
No one spoke.
The only sound inside the crypt was the steady drip of water falling somewhere deep in the darkness.
Victor Hale's voice echoed down the stone staircase.
"Fifty-five seconds."
Daniel quietly pulled a compact flashlight from his backpack and placed it on the floor.
"What are you doing?" Ethan whispered.
"Buying time."
He turned to me.
"Amelia, where's the journal?"
I looked down at the leather notebook in my hands.
It contained years of Henry Mercer's investigation.
Enough evidence to expose a financial empire built on fraud.
Enough motive to kill.
Walter leaned close.
"Henry once told me there were two journals."
"What?"
"A real one."
"And a decoy."
I stared at him.
"You never mentioned that."
"I didn't know where either one was."
Victor's voice came again.
"Forty seconds."
Daniel smiled for the first time all day.
"I think I have an idea."
He opened his backpack, removed an old leather notebook almost identical in size and color, and quickly wrapped it inside Henry's envelope.
From a distance...
No one could tell the difference.
He looked at me.
"If this fails..."
"Run."
Daniel climbed halfway up the staircase.
Victor stood waiting with four men behind him.
"You came alone?" Victor asked.
Daniel shrugged.
"You only asked for the journal."
He held up the wrapped notebook.
Victor reached for it.
The instant his fingers touched the package—
Blue lights exploded through the broken stained-glass windows.
"Federal agents!"
"Nobody move!"
Victor spun around.
More than twenty armed agents rushed through the chapel from every entrance.
Special Agent Laura Bennett stepped forward.
"Victor Hale!"
"You're under arrest for conspiracy, obstruction of justice, witness intimidation, and multiple counts of federal fraud."
Victor smiled.
"You don't have enough."
Laura smiled back.
"We do now."
She held up a signed federal warrant.
"And we've been listening to every word since you arrived."
Daniel slowly revealed the tiny recording device clipped beneath his shirt collar.
Victor's confident expression disappeared for the first time.
At the same moment...
Across town...
Agents entered Vivian Mercer's mansion.
She was packing suitcases.
Passport.
Jewelry.
Cash.
Three luxury watches.
The lead agent stopped her before she reached the front door.
"Vivian Mercer?"
She nodded cautiously.
"You are under arrest."
She laughed.
"For what?"
The agent placed photographs of foundation transfers onto the marble table.
"Embezzlement."
"Money laundering."
"Tax fraud."
"Wire fraud."
"And conspiracy."
Vivian's smile faded.
"You can't prove any of that."
May you like
Another agent quietly placed Henry's financial journal beside the photographs.
"We already have."
