Chapter 6 - The Midnight Drive
""Get in the car! Now!"" I screamed at Sarah, sprinting down the hallway toward the elevator before the agents could even finish securing the laptops.
My sister, Clara, was seven months pregnant with her first child. She was a gentle, quiet elementary school music teacher who lived in a secluded, wooded neighborhood in Lake Forest with her husband, David, a high school track coach. Clara had never wanted any part of my high-powered corporate world, and she had always been the kindest, most protective person in my life. The thought of Ethan's frantic, cornered madness touching her peaceful home sent a wave of adrenaline surging through my veins that felt like liquid fire.
Agent Rodriguez and two investigators ran down the corridor behind us. ""Ms. Vance! Wait! You cannot drive out there alone! He is desperate and potentially armed!""
""Then follow me!"" I shouted back, hitting the button for the underground garage. ""Because if he touches my sister, you won't need a prosecutor—you'll need an undertaker!""
Within sixty seconds, my high-performance all-wheel-drive sedan shot out of the Drake's garage onto the rain-slicked asphalt of Michigan Avenue, the twin turbos roaring as I merged aggressively onto the highway heading north toward the affluent suburbs. Behind me, the red and blue flashing lights of two federal pursuit vehicles cut through the midnight fog, their sirens howling against the storm.
I dialed Clara's number on the dashboard hands-free system. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Every ring felt like a needle driving deep into my temple.
""Pick up, Clara, please pick up,"" I whispered, gripping the leather steering wheel until my fingers went numb.
On the fourth ring, the call connected. ""Emma? What's going on? It's after midnight..."" Clara's voice was groggy, heavy with sleep.
""Clara! Listen to me very carefully!"" I barked, cutting through her drowsiness with razor-sharp urgency. ""Do not turn on any lights. Wake David up right now. Take your phone, go into the master bathroom, lock the heavy inner door, and sit on the floor away from the windows! Ethan is heading to your house!""
""What? Ethan? Emma, you're scaring me, what's wrong with him?""
""He's running from the FBI, Clara! He's lost his mind! Is David awake?""
""Yes, yes, I'm shaking him now—"" Clara's voice was suddenly drowned out by a deafening crash coming through the speaker. The violent sound of shattering glass echoed from the ground floor of her house, followed by the deep, frantic barking of their golden retriever.
""Emma! Someone just smashed the back patio door!"" Clara screamed, her voice spiking into pure, unadulterated terror. ""David! David, someone's in the kitchen!""
""Clara, get into the bathroom! Barricade the door! David, don't confront him, he's dangerous!"" I yelled, stomping the accelerator to the floor. The digital speedometer climbed past ninety, then one hundred miles per hour as my car tore through the empty highway lanes, hydroplaning slightly through the standing water before the traction control clamped down.
Over the open phone line, I heard the heavy, stomping footsteps of someone charging up the wooden staircase of Clara's house. Then came Ethan's voice, distorted and ragged, screaming like a wounded animal.
""Clara! Open the damn door! Where are the trust keys? Where did Emma hide the off-line bearer bonds from your father's estate? Open this door or I'll kick it off the hinges!""
""Ethan, please! I'm pregnant! Leave us alone!"" Clara was sobbing hysterically behind the locked bathroom door.
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""Tell your sister to wire forty million to the Calumet account or I swear to God none of you leave this house alive!"" Ethan bellowed, followed by the heavy, shuddering thud of his body slamming into the wood of the bathroom door.
""I'm five minutes away, Ethan!"" I screamed into the car's microphone, my voice shaking with primal fury. ""The federal tactical team is behind me! If you don't step away from that door right now, you will die in that hallway!""
