Chapter 6 - The Lake House
Charlotte drove north before sunrise.
She used a rental car registered under a false name.
Every few miles, she checked the mirrors.
Nobody appeared to be following.
That didn't make her feel safer.
The old Vale lake house stood behind rusted gates surrounded by pine trees.
Charlotte hadn't been there since she was fourteen.
Her father had taught her to swim from the dock.
Her mother had planted roses beside the porch.
Now the estate looked abandoned.
Windows covered in dust.
Leaves piled against the entrance.
Charlotte used Samuel's notebook to locate the coordinates.
They led her beneath the house.
A hidden cellar door opened behind an old wine cabinet.
Charlotte descended with a flashlight.
At the bottom was a concrete room.
A single safe stood against the wall.
Charlotte tried her mother's birthday.
Wrong.
Her father's birthday.
Wrong.
Her own birthday.
The safe clicked.
Charlotte closed her eyes.
Even after everything, her mother had chosen Charlotte.
Inside was a black leather ledger.
Beside it sat a flash drive and a sealed envelope.
Charlotte opened the envelope first.
My darling Charlotte.
If you are reading this, then Adrian has already moved against us.
Charlotte's vision blurred.
She continued reading.
Do not trust Victor Hale.
Do not trust the board.
Do not assume my death was an accident.
The ledger contains proof of financial crimes.
The flash drive contains something worse.
Charlotte inserted the drive into her laptop.
Folders filled the screen.
Video recordings.
Audio files.
Bank records.
She opened one video.
Eleanor sat inside her office.
Adrian stood across from her.
"You stole from this family."
Adrian remained calm.
"I built value your family never understood."
"You bribed officials."
"I created influence."
"I am taking this to federal investigators."
Adrian stepped closer.
"You won't make it that far."
The video ended.
Charlotte's hands trembled.
She opened another.
Marcus and Victor Hale discussed preparing fraudulent trust documents.
Another showed Celeste delivering cash to a city official.
Then Charlotte found a folder labeled C.V.
She opened it.
Photographs of herself.
Boston.
Her apartment.
The grocery store.
Her university reunion.
Someone had been watching her for months.
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Charlotte shut the laptop.
Silence.
Then another creak.
Someone was inside the house.
She grabbed the ledger.
The cellar door opened.
A shadow appeared.
Charlotte backed away.
"Don't move."
A man descended.
Tall.
Gray suit.
Gun in his hand.
Charlotte recognized him.
Daniel Mercer.
Former federal prosecutor.
Her father's oldest friend.
"Daniel?"
He lowered the gun immediately.
"Thank God."
Charlotte didn't move.
"Why are you here?"
"Samuel called me."
"When?"
"Two days ago."
Charlotte studied his face.
"Samuel might be dead."
Daniel's expression broke.
Then headlights appeared through the basement window.
More than one vehicle.
Daniel turned.
"They followed you."
"No."
"They followed me."
Doors slammed outside.
Men surrounded the house.
Daniel looked at Charlotte.
"Do you have the ledger?"
Charlotte tightened her grip.
May you like
"Yes."
"Then we have about thirty seconds before someone tries to kill us for it."
