Chapter 8 - THE BETRAYAL
Z
As my truck pulled onto Elm Street, my heart sank into my stomach.
A dark sedan with tinted windows was already parked on the curb in front of my house. Standing near my front porch was Sheriff Davies, dressed in his full uniform, alongside two plainclothes men I had never seen before.
"It's a trap," Thomas whispered, shrinking down into the footwell of the passenger seat. "That's Davies. Marcus already called him."
I kept driving slowly, pretending to be a normal homeowner returning home, but my mind was racing. If I pulled into my driveway, they would arrest me on fabricated charges, search my vehicle, find Thomas, and seize the waterproof case hidden inside my living room closet.
I drove right past my house without turning in, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead.
Through my side mirror, I saw Sheriff Davies turn his head and spot my truck. He immediately reached for his radio mounted on his shoulder and gestured for the two plainclothes officers to head toward their vehicle.
"They saw us," I said, pressing the gas pedal down as soon as we crossed the intersection. "They're coming."
"Where is the case?" Thomas asked urgently from the floorboards. "Is it in the house?"
"It's in the hall closet behind the coats," I said, taking a sharp left turn onto a narrow alleyway running behind the residential block. "I can't get back inside without walking right into their hands."
"There's a back way," Thomas said, sitting up quickly. "The old storm drain utility access behind your backyard fence. My dad showed me how the properties connected when I was little. If you stop in the alley, I can slip through the loose fence board, grab the box through the back kitchen window, and meet you on the next street before they search the house."
"It's too dangerous, Thomas. If they catch you inside—"
"They don't know I'm with you yet," Thomas interrupted, his voice surprisingly steady. "They think you're alone in the truck. You have to lead them away from the house for five minutes. Just five minutes, Rick. Draw their attention down Main Street, then loop back to the church parking lot on 4th Street."
I looked at the kid's determined eyes. He was no longer the scared boy hiding from his uncle; he was fighting for his life and his father's legacy.
"Five minutes," I agreed grimly. "If you aren't at the church in five minutes, I'm coming back in with everything I've got."
I slammed on the brakes in the dark alley behind my fence. Thomas unlatched the door, slipped out silently like a ghost, and disappeared through a gap in the wooden privacy fence.
May you like
I slammed the truck door shut, accelerated out of the alley, and turned sharply onto Main Street just as Sheriff Davies' cruiser tore around the corner with its blue lights flashing wildly.
I didn't stop. I hit the siren button on my own horn and led the sheriff's cruiser on a high-speed chase through the center of town, drawing every eye and every law enforcement unit directly to my vehicle.
