Chapter 11 - The Gas in the Vents
Rachel covered Samuel’s mouth with the cloth from his neck.
“Don’t breathe deeply.”
Owen struck the door controls. Nothing happened.
The chemical odor thickened.
My vision blurred at the edges.
The truck’s electrical system had been remotely locked, but the side windows were mechanical only in appearance. Owen tried the emergency release beneath the steering column.
No response.
“Back window,” I said.
He twisted toward it. “Reinforced.”
I looked at Samuel.
His eyes were already closing.
The blue ledger rested on my lap.
The hidden recorder remained inside my handbag.
Two pieces of evidence.
One chance to escape.
I pulled the silver pen from my pocket. The same pen Julian had dropped onto the transfer papers. Heavy metal, pointed tip.
I drove it into the corner of the passenger window.
Nothing.
Again.
A white star appeared in the glass.
Rachel took the ledger and struck the same point with its metal-edged cover.
The window cracked.
Owen kicked outward.
The glass gave way in a sheet of fractured safety cubes. Cold air rushed in.
I pushed the ledger through first.
Rachel stared at me. “Why?”
“Because if we pass out, someone might find it.”
I forced myself through the window. Broken glass caught my trousers and tore the fabric at my thigh, but I dropped onto the pavement.
Rachel followed.
Owen dragged Samuel across the seat while I reached back for my handbag.
The truck rolled forward.
The engine had restarted without a driver.
“Move!” Owen shouted.
I grabbed the bag’s strap, but it snagged around the seat bracket.
The pickup accelerated.
I had to let go.
My handbag disappeared with the truck as it swerved into the underground parking entrance.
The real recorder was still inside.
Owen pulled Samuel clear and rolled him onto his side. Rachel checked his breathing.
“He needs an ambulance.”
“No Mercer-affiliated hospital,” Samuel murmured.
“We don’t have a choice,” I said.
Sirens approached before anyone called.
Too fast.
Owen looked toward the street. “They were already dispatched.”
A police cruiser stopped beside us. Two officers got out, followed by an ambulance.
The first officer looked at me, then at Owen.
“Clara Vale?”
“Yes.”
“You’re under investigation for the assault of Julian Vale and Eleanor Vale.”
I almost laughed from disbelief.
“They attacked me.”
“We received video showing you striking your husband with a metal object and fleeing in his vehicle.”
The kitchen cameras had supposedly been disabled.
Yet they had video.
Julian had preserved only the angle that helped him.
I opened my coat to show the dressing.
“Eleanor poured hot oil on me.”
The officer’s gaze shifted, but his expression remained guarded.
“We’ll document your statement.”
“Where are Julian and Eleanor?”
“They’re being treated.”
“For what?”
“Your husband has an injury to his hand. His mother reported being struck with a stool.”
Both true.
Stripped of context.
The second officer approached Owen. “Sir, step away from the injured man.”
Owen complied.
Rachel leaned close to me.
“The ledger.”
I looked toward the sidewalk where I had pushed it through the window.
It was gone.
A woman in navy medical scrubs stood near the rear ambulance door, holding something beneath her coat.
A strip of blue leather showed near her wrist.
She met my eyes.
Then she climbed into the ambulance with Samuel.
The doors closed.
“Wait,” I said.
The ambulance pulled away before the officers had even finished speaking.
Rachel’s face hardened.
“That wasn’t an ambulance crew.”
My phone rang from an unknown number.
I answered.
Samuel’s voice came through, strained and frightened.
May you like
“Clara, the woman who took the ledger is Megan.”
📖 Find out why Megan stole the ledger after appearing as a hostage—and whose side she is truly on in CHAPTER 12. 👇
