Chapter 17 - THE LAST DINNER Eleanor's escape had been planned months in advance.
A bribed corrections officer.
A false ambulance.
A changed transport route.
Then my phone rang.
“Come to the vineyard.”
“No.”
A video appeared.
Maya was tied to a chair.
Eleanor's voice came through the phone.
“Come alone.”
I knew it was a trap.
So did the federal agents.
But we went anyway.
I entered the Caldwell dining room through the same doors where Adrian had attacked me.
The table was set.
A plate sat in front of my chair.
Eleanor sat at the head of the table.
Maya was tied across from me.
“You took everything from me,” Eleanor said.
“No.”
She smiled.
“You took my family.”
“They destroyed themselves.”
“You destroyed Adrian.”
“He attacked me.”
“You destroyed Julian.”
“He kidnapped a child.”
“You destroyed Charles.”
“He helped murder my father.”
Eleanor poured herself wine.
“You always have an answer.”
“The truth usually does.”
She wanted a confession.
She wanted me to say the evidence was fabricated.
She wanted to record my death.
So I asked questions.
“Did you order my father's death?”
“Yes.”
“Did you order the driver's death?”
“He became expensive.”
“Did you imprison Lydia?”
“She refused to surrender Grace.”
“Did Adrian know?”
“He knew enough.”
“Did Charles object?”
“Charles always objected.”
“Then he obeyed.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Families are not held together by love.”
She lifted her glass.
“They are held together by fear.”
I looked at Maya.
Then back at Eleanor.
“No.”
Her smile faded.
“They are held together by choices.”
The lights came on.
Federal vehicles surrounded the estate.
Eleanor reached for the gun.
I overturned the table.
The plate shattered.
Maya threw herself sideways.
The gun fired.
Federal agents stormed the room.
Eleanor crawled toward the weapon.
Maya kicked it away.
For the first time, Eleanor looked around.
Nobody was protecting her.
Charles had testified.
Adrian was imprisoned.
Julian had confessed.
Thomas Vale had turned.
Monica Shaw was captured.
The officers entering the room were wearing body cameras connected to a federal live feed.
Eleanor slowly raised her hands.
As the cuffs closed around her wrists, she looked at the broken plate.
“Such a waste.”
I looked at the fragments.
“No.”
“It finally served a purpose.”
But before Eleanor was taken away, her phone rang.
One message appeared.
May you like
The name on the screen was:
NORA REYES.
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