Chapter 8 - Midnight at the CourthouseThe old courthouse smelled of mold and wet stone.
Vincent walked first.
Gabriel stayed three steps behind.
Khloe remained between them and the shadows.
Emergency lights painted the corridor red.
Arthur Vale waited inside the abandoned courtroom.
He was seventy-two years old.
Silver hair.
Perfect posture.
Navy suit.
No visible weapon.
Six armed men stood around him.
Isabella sat near the judge’s bench.
Her wrists were tied.
Tape covered her mouth.
Gabriel moved instinctively.
A gun lifted toward Isabella.
He stopped.
Arthur smiled.
“You always were impulsive.”
Gabriel’s hands curled into fists.
Vincent spoke.
“You wanted documents.”
Arthur looked toward him.
“Yes.”
Vincent lifted an old leather folder.
Khloe had found it inside a concealed safe at the estate.
Antonio Costa’s original trust.
The document that could transfer enormous portions of Costa assets under specific succession conditions.
Arthur extended his hand.
“Bring it.”
Vincent remained still.
“Release Isabella.”
Arthur laughed.
“You are in no position to negotiate.”
Khloe studied the room.
Six gunmen.
Two exits.
One security camera.
Dom should be underneath the eastern wall by now.
Frank should be controlling the external power.
Thirty seconds.
She needed thirty seconds.
Arthur looked toward her.
“Miss Evans.”
Khloe felt Vincent tense.
Arthur smiled.
“You are the surprise.”
“I get that a lot.”
“I expected Vincent to choose a beautiful woman eventually.”
Khloe said nothing.
“I did not expect him to choose a competent one.”
Vincent’s voice became dangerous.
“Arthur.”
“What?”
“I’m complimenting her.”
“You’re speaking about her.”
Arthur smiled.
“Still territorial.”
Khloe stepped forward.
Vincent’s hand caught hers.
She squeezed once.
Trust me.
He released her.
Arthur watched the exchange.
Khloe said, “Bellweather’s board removed you forty minutes ago.”
For the first time, Arthur’s smile faltered.
“Your shares have been frozen.”
“Your bank suspended your personal credit.”
“Three directors gave statements to federal investigators.”
“You have approximately eleven million dollars accessible.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“Still enough.”
“For what?”
Khloe looked around.
“Six men and an abandoned courthouse?”
One gunman glanced toward Arthur.
Tiny movement.
But Khloe saw it.
So did Vincent.
Arthur saw it too.
“Do not listen to her.”
Khloe continued.
“You were paying these men through Bellweather Security.”
“That account was frozen at 10:47.”
Another gunman looked toward Arthur.
“She's lying,” Arthur said.
Khloe smiled.
“No.”
“You can check.”
A man near the door slowly reached for his phone.
Arthur turned.
“Don’t.”
Too late.
The man checked.
His expression changed.
That was all Frank needed.
The lights died.
Total darkness.
Vincent moved.
Two gunshots.
A shout.
Gabriel ran toward Isabella.
Khloe dropped behind a wooden bench.
More shots exploded.
Someone crashed into the jury box.
Emergency lighting flickered back.
Dom emerged from the side corridor.
Frank entered from the rear.
Arthur’s security detail had collapsed into confusion.
Vincent reached Khloe.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Stay down.”
Arthur was running.
Khloe saw him disappear through the judge’s chambers.
“Vincent!”
Vincent followed.
Khloe followed Vincent.
“Damn it, Khloe!”
“You can yell later.”
They entered the chambers.
A door slammed.
Arthur had reached the rear corridor.
Vincent pursued him.
Khloe heard an engine outside.
They emerged into the rain.
Arthur was climbing into a black sedan.
Vincent raised his weapon.
Khloe grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t.”
“He’ll escape.”
“No.”
She pointed.
Police lights appeared at the far end of the road.
Dozens.
Federal vehicles behind them.
Arthur froze.
Vincent looked at Khloe.
“You called them?”
“His security chief did.”
Arthur stared at the approaching lights.
For the first time, he looked old.
Defeated.
He turned toward Vincent.
“Your father would be ashamed of you.”
Vincent slowly lowered his weapon.
Rain ran down his face.
“My father is dead.”
Arthur’s expression twisted.
“You think this woman changed what you are?”
Vincent looked toward Khloe.
Then back at Arthur.
“No.”
“She reminded me I could choose.”
Federal agents surrounded Arthur.
They ordered him to his knees.
He complied.
Handcuffs closed around his wrists.
Vincent did not watch.
He turned away.
Inside the courthouse, Gabriel had cut Isabella free.
She collapsed into his arms.
Gabriel held her so tightly she protested.
“Dad.”
He buried his face against her hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“Dad, I can’t breathe.”
He laughed.
Then cried.
Khloe looked away.
Vincent stood beside her.
His hand found hers.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“You?”
“No.”
Khloe looked at him.
Vincent stared at Gabriel and Isabella.
Something complicated moved across his face.
Regret.
Grief.
Maybe envy.
“He had a daughter for twenty years.”
“Yes.”
“I missed all of it.”
Khloe leaned against him.
“You have tomorrow.”
Vincent looked down at her.
Rain softened.
Sirens reflected across wet pavement.
For once, nobody had died.
Vincent kissed her forehead.
May you like
“Tomorrow,” he repeated.
As though the word itself was unfamiliar.
