Chapter 17 - The Firefight—The Union Boss—The Husband's Return

Two weeks later.

I sat in a quiet coffee shop in downtown Seattle. I had moved across the country, using a portion of my own clean savings to start over. My whistleblower immunity had held up.

Frank Moretti was in federal prison. Eleanor survived the gunshot but was facing twenty years. My parents were locked in a supermax facility awaiting trial for wire fraud and conspiracy to commit murder.

I took a sip of my black coffee, looking out at the gray, rainy streets. It finally felt like peace.

The bell above the coffee shop door chimed.

I didn't look up, assuming it was just another customer.

A shadow fell over my small table.

“You look good in flannel, Jules,” a voice said softly.

My blood turned to ice.

I slowly looked up.

Standing across from me, leaning heavily on a cane, his leg in a thick cast and his face covered in healing bruises, was Marcus.

“Marcus,” I breathed, entirely paralyzed. “You’re supposed to be in federal custody.”

“I made a deal,” Marcus smiled, sliding into the booth across from me. He didn't look like the arrogant country club groom anymore. He looked like a feral, desperate animal.

“What kind of deal?” I asked, my hand slowly reaching into my purse for my pepper spray.

“I testified against my mother,” Marcus said coldly. “I gave the feds everything they needed to lock Eleanor away for life. In exchange, they let me walk on three years probation.”

“And you used your freedom to track me down?” I asked.

“I didn't track you for revenge, Jules,” Marcus said, leaning closer, his eyes flashing with a terrifying, manic intensity. “I tracked you because I know you’re holding out.”

“The money is gone, Marcus. I wired it to the FBI.”

Marcus laughed softly, a bitter, hollow sound.

“You wired thirty million to the FBI,” Marcus whispered. “But my mother embezzled forty million from the union pension. There’s ten million missing. And I know you have it.”

The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.

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