The Ground Survey

I shoved the door open. The rain was a deafening roar, but the gunshot was louder.

*BANG.*

Simon jerked. A spray of red mist erupted from his shoulder, painting the inside of the SUV window. He screamed, dropping his own gun onto the passenger seat.

I didn't wait. I scrambled out of the BMW, my boots skidding on the wet asphalt. I raised the revolver, leveling it at the shattered window of the black SUV.

"Get out!" I screamed. "Get out or I finish it!"

Simon stumbled out, clutching his shoulder. Blood soaked his expensive suit, turning the gray wool black. He fell to his knees in the puddles, gasping for air.

"You're insane," he wheezed. "You shot a lawyer."

"I shot an accomplice," I said, walking toward him. "And if you move, I'll shoot a murderer."

Behind me, Richard was out of the car. He ran to Simon, kicking the fallen gun away. He looked at me, then at the revolver in my hand. His eyes were wide with shock, but also something else. Respect.

"Get his phone," I ordered. "And his keys."

Richard patted Simon down, his hands rough. He pulled out a sleek smartphone and a set of keys. He tossed them into the woods.

"Now," I said, looking down at Simon. "We're going to talk about the ledger."

"I don't have it," Simon spat, wincing as he shifted. "Sarah had it."

"Sarah is dead," I said. "And her grave is empty. Where is it, Simon?"

He laughed, a wet, gurgling sound. "You think I know? I handled the money. Arthur handled the bodies. Ask the old man."

I looked back at the car. Arthur was watching us through the window, his face a mask of terror. Maya was holding him, whispering something I couldn't hear.

"He says he doesn't know," I said, turning back to Simon. "So I guess you're useless to me."

I raised the gun again.

"Wait!" Simon yelled, holding up his good hand. "Wait! The surveyor!"

"What surveyor?"

"The one Arthur hired. Last week. Before the fire. He wanted to move the... assets."

"Move them where?"

"He didn't say. He just wanted a ground survey. Of the family plot. To see if the soil was stable."

I lowered the gun slightly. "Why?"

"Because he was paranoid. He thought the river was eroding the bank. He thought the crypt was going to collapse."

I looked at the river, churning black and angry just beyond the trees. If the crypt collapsed... everything inside would be washed away. Including the evidence.

"Who was the surveyor?" I asked.

"A private contractor. Cash only. No records."

"Name," I demanded.

"I don't know! It's in Arthur's phone. Under 'D'."

"D for what?"

"Drainage," Simon gasped. "Drainage issues."

I looked at Richard. "Get Dad's phone."

Richard ran back to the car. He returned a moment later, scrolling through the contacts.

"Here," he said. "Drainage. It's a local number."

I took the phone. I dialed.

It rang once. Twice.

"Yeah?" A gruff voice answered.

"This is Helen Vance," I said. "I'm calling about the survey you did for Arthur."

"Lady, it's three in the morning."

"I know what time it is. I need to know what you found."

"I sent the report," the man said, annoyed. "To the email on file."

"The email is gone," I said. "The servers are gone. Tell me."

There was a pause. I could hear a lighter flicking on the other end.

"Look, I don't know what you people are burying out there," the surveyor said, his voice dropping. "But you got problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"The crypt," he said. "The big marble one. I scanned it with the GPR."

Ground Penetrating Radar.

"And?"

"And it's not stable," he said. "But that's not the weird part. The density is wrong, Ma'am. Under the stone floor."

"What do you mean, wrong?"

"I mean it looks... collapsed," he said. "Like there's nothing solid inside. Just a void."

I stared at Simon, bleeding in the rain.

"A void?"

"Yeah," the surveyor said. "Like someone dug a tunnel under it. Or like the grave itself is hollow."