Chapter 12 - The Estate on the Ridge
The Cole family estate sat isolated atop a rocky ridge overlooking the Cumberland River, surrounded by dense pine forests and rusted wrought-iron fencing. The grand Victorian mansion looked like something out of a gothic horror novel, its slate roof slick with rain, its massive wrap-around porch rotting and overgrown with ivy.
Daniel killed his engine half a mile down the private access road, continuing on foot through the thick underbrush to avoid alerting anyone inside. The rain was coming down in sheets now, soaking through his jacket and chilling him to the bone, but he felt nothing. Adrenaline and paternal instinct burned hot inside him.
He reached the perimeter fence, slipped through a rusted gap where the iron bars had buckled, and crept across the manicured lawn toward the rear carriage house. Through the rain-streaked windows of the carriage house, a harsh halogen work light illuminated the interior.
Claire was tied once more to a heavy wooden armchair in the center of the room, her head slumped forward, unconscious. Standing over her was a tall, imposing man in a dark trench coat, his broad shoulders and sharp, angular jawline bearing an unmistakable family resemblance to Lorraine Cole.
Thomas Cole.
Thomas held a syringe in one hand and a thick manila envelope in the other. He leaned down, tapping Claire's cheek roughly until her eyelids fluttered open, blinking sluggishly against the glare.
"Wake up, little sister-in-law," Thomas's voice was deep, smooth, and chillingly calm. "Your father thinks he's such a hero. But he doesn't understand that money like ours doesn't just disappear because a couple of cops raid a warehouse."
Claire groaned, struggling weakly against the thick ropes. "You're... you're insane. My dad is going to put you away for the rest of your life."
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Thomas laughed softly, a humorless, hollow sound. "Your father is currently driving toward an empty warehouse on the other side of town. By the time he realizes he's been chasing ghosts, you and I are going to be boarding a private charter flight out of Nashville Municipal."
Daniel didn't wait another second. He raised his boot and kicked the rotting wooden side door of the carriage house clean off its hinges with a thunderous crash.
