Simon's Visit

I left Mrs. Gable standing in the mud with her shovel and her secrets. I didn't say goodbye. I didn't thank her. I just ran.

I ran through the woods, back toward the main road, the ledger heavy in my pocket, the ring burning a hole in my palm. The rain had picked up again, turning the world into a blurred, gray mess, but I didn't care. I had the truth.

And I had a weapon.

I reached the driveway just as Richard’s BMW pulled out. He saw me, slamming on the brakes. The window rolled down.

"Helen!" he shouted. "Get in! We have to go!"

"Where?"

"Anywhere! The house is... it's gone, Helen. The fire is out of control."

I looked past him. The main house was fully engulfed now, flames licking the roof, smoke billowing into the sky like a funeral shroud. The sirens were deafening.

I got into the car. Maya was in the backseat, clutching Arthur's hand. Arthur was staring out the window, his expression vacant, lost in a world where his son was dead and his secrets were safe.

"Drive," I said.

"Where?"

"Just drive."

We sped down the main road, leaving the estate and its burning history behind. Richard drove for twenty minutes in silence, his eyes fixed on the road, his knuckles white.

Finally, he pulled over into a rest stop. It was deserted, the sodium lights buzzing in the rain.

He turned off the engine. The silence in the car was sudden and absolute.

"We need a plan," he said, his voice shaking. "We need to know what to tell the police."

"We tell them the truth," I said.

"No!" He spun around in his seat. "We can't! If we tell them about Julian... about Sarah... we'll go to jail. All of us. Even Maya."

"Maya is innocent," I said.

"She's the daughter of a murderer and a blackmailer," Richard hissed. "Do you think the press will care about innocence? They'll eat her alive."

"So what do you suggest?"

"We stick to the story," he said, desperate. "The fire was an accident. Julian is dead. We don't know anything about a ledger or a baby."

A tap on the window made us all jump.

I looked out.

A black SUV was parked next to us. The window was rolling down.

Simon Blackwood was in the driver's seat.

He looked terrible. His face was bruised, his suit torn. He had survived the crash into the quarry, but he wasn't unscathed.

He smiled, a bloody, crooked grin.

"Family meeting?" he asked.

Richard unlocked the doors. "Simon. Thank God."

"Don't thank Him yet," Simon said. "I'm not here to save you, Richard. I'm here to close the account."

He got out of the SUV, limping heavily. He walked to my window.

"Open it, Helen."

I rolled down the window an inch. "Go to hell, Simon."

"I've been there," he said, gesturing to his leg. "It's wet. Now, give me the book."

"What book?"

"Don't play games. I saw you come out of the woods. Mrs. Gable talks too much. Give me the ledger."

"Or what?"

"Or I tell the police everything," he said. "I tell them about the embezzlement. About the payoff. About how you helped cover up a murder."

"You're in it too," I said. "You're on the list."

"I have immunity," he lied, his eyes cold. "I made a deal. I turn over the Vances, I walk free."

He leaned closer.

"Give me the ledger, Helen. And I'll make sure Maya stays out of it. I'll make sure she inherits what's left of the estate. A nice, quiet trust fund. No scandal. No prison."

I looked at Maya in the backseat. She was terrified.

"Take the money, Helen," Simon whispered. "Before the accident happens to you."

I looked at the ledger in my pocket. The weight of thirty years of lies.

Then I looked at the gun in my other pocket.

"You're right, Simon," I said, reaching for the door handle. "It's time to close the account."