Chapter 7 - A Trap of Our Own
The front door handle jiggled, then rattled violently.
"Elena? Clara? Open up, it's me!" Derek's voice boomed through the door.
I gave my mother a nod. She retreated into the shadows of the kitchen, holding the shotgun out of sight but ready. I walked over to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.
Derek stood on the porch. He was wearing a heavy black raincoat, his hair damp from the mist. But it was his face that made my blood run cold. There was no worry in his eyes. There was only a terrifying, empty calm. Behind him, another man stood in the shadows of the driveway—a tall, muscular figure with a baseball cap pulled low over his face. The hired help.
"Derek," I gasped, acting out my part, stepping back to let him enter. "Thank god you're here. Who is that with you?"
Derek stepped into the warm living room, tracking mud across the rug. He didn't answer my question. Instead, he looked around the room, his eyes scanning the dark corners.
"Where's Lily, Elena?" he asked, his voice chillingly flat.
"She's sleeping in the back room," I lied, keeping my distance. "Derek, what's going on? You said you were in Denver. Why did you lie to me? And who is that man outside?"
Derek closed the front door behind him, clicking the lock into place. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room. He slowly peeled off his leather gloves, throwing them onto the coffee table. The mask of the loving husband was officially gone. In its place was a stranger—cold, calculated, and entirely devoid of empathy.
"You always had to look too closely at things, didn't you, Elena?" Derek said, sighing as if he were thoroughly disappointed in a child. "You couldn't just enjoy the life I provided for you. The house, the cars, the financial security. You had to go poking around into my business accounts."
"Your business accounts?" I demanded, making sure my voice was loud enough for the hidden phone to capture every syllable. "You mean the money you've been laundering? The offshore accounts in the Caymans? Is that why you took out a four-million-dollar life insurance policy on me?"
Derek paused, a slow, malicious smirk spreading across his face. "You found that, did you? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now. You see, Elena, you've become a liability. My partners... they don't like liabilities. And four million dollars goes a long way toward fixing a lot of problems."
"You're going to kill me?" I whispered, letting the genuine horror of the moment infuse my voice. "For money?"
"Not just you, Elena," Derek said, his voice dropping into a sinister whisper that made my spine freeze. "It needs to be a tragedy. A devastating, heartbreaking tragedy. A grieving husband losing his entire family in a horrific house fire in the mountains. Faulty wiring in an old cabin. Tragic, really. The insurance company won't even question it."
May you like
"You would kill your own daughter?" I screamed, the maternal rage finally breaking through my facade. "She's six years old, Derek! She's your own flesh and blood!"
Derek’s expression didn't even flicker with regret. "She heard me on the phone, Elena. She's a smart kid. Too smart. I can't risk her talking to anyone later. It’s cleaner this way."
