Chapter 4 - THE NIGHT THE FARMHOUSE WAS ATTACKED
Three days later, someone tried to break into Molly’s farmhouse.
It happened at 1:16 in the morning.
A motion light came on near the barn.
Molly woke first.
She shook Laurel.
“Shoes.”
“What?”
“Shoes. Now.”
A shadow moved past the kitchen window.
Then another.
Laurel’s heartbeat became violent.
Someone struck the back door.
Once.
Twice.
The frame cracked.
Molly grabbed Laurel’s hand and pulled her toward the pantry.
“There’s a cellar exit.”
“You have a cellar exit?”
“I’m a divorced fraud investigator living alone in Vermont. Of course I have a cellar exit.”
Even terrified, Laurel almost laughed.
Another impact shook the house.
They ran downstairs.
The air smelled of cold stone and furnace oil.
Molly forced open a steel hatch.
Snow blew inside.
They climbed out behind the house.
A man shouted.
Laurel turned.
Someone was coming around the corner.
Then headlights exploded across the yard.
A vehicle skidded sideways near the driveway.
Three men got out.
“Mrs. Varelli!”
Laurel froze.
She recognized Wes.
The intruders ran.
One disappeared behind the barn.
Another jumped the fence.
Wes’s men pursued only far enough to force them away from the house.
Minutes later, silence returned.
Molly rounded on Wes.
“You followed us?”
Wes lowered his hands.
“I kept distance.”
“I specifically told Laurel nobody—”
“He was following my orders.”
Silas’s voice came from behind them.
Laurel turned.
He had arrived in a second vehicle.
He looked different.
Maybe because she had never seen him approaching without believing she belonged at his side.
Snow gathered on his shoulders.
His eyes went immediately to her bruised cheek.
Then he stopped several feet away.
“Laurel.”
She took one step backward.
Silas went still.
It was a tiny movement.
But he understood what it meant.
His wife was afraid he might touch her.
He swallowed.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Molly?”
“I’m fine,” Molly snapped. “Your marriage counseling can happen somewhere else.”
Silas nodded.
Fair.
Laurel looked at Wes.
“Who were they?”
“We caught one vehicle plate. It connects indirectly to Grant.”
Silas said, “I think he knows what you found.”
Laurel laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“I told you the accounts were wrong.”
“I know.”
“No. I told you before Sabrina. Before Christmas.”
“I know.”
“You said I worried too much.”
His eyes dropped.
“Yes.”
“You trusted your cousin.”
“Yes.”
“You trusted your mistress.”
Silas flinched.
“Yes.”
“You trusted everybody except the person who spent fifteen years trying to protect you from your own arrogance.”
He had no defense.
That absence of defense made Laurel angrier.
“And when she used our daughter against me, you hit me.”
Snow landed on Silas’s hair.
He said nothing for several seconds.
Finally, “Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“I reacted.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
“Then answer me.”
His voice was low.
“Because somewhere along the way I started believing that being angry gave me permission to act before thinking.”
Laurel stared at him.
“That’s frightening.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
He nodded.
“All right.”
Her eyes unexpectedly filled with tears.
“I spent years being lonely beside you.”
Silas looked as though she had struck him.
“You came home every night and somehow I still felt abandoned.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You are sorry now.”
“Yes.”
“That’s different.”
He nodded again.
“Yes.”
The humility should have satisfied her.
It didn’t.
Some injuries did not become smaller because the person who caused them finally understood their size.
Wes approached quietly.
“We need to move everyone. Grant knows this location.”
Laurel wiped her face.
“I’m not going home.”
Silas answered immediately.
“I’m not asking you to.”
She studied him, suspicious.
“Where would I go?”
“Molly chooses.”
Molly crossed her arms.
“Really?”
Silas looked at her.
“Really.”
Molly chose a hotel in Burlington.
She chose the rooms.
She chose which security personnel could remain nearby.
Silas stayed on a different floor.
Laurel noticed all of it.
She hated that she noticed.
The next morning she met attorney Joanna Pierce, a former financial prosecutor Molly trusted.
Laurel placed the records on a conference table.
Joanna read for nearly two hours.
When she finally looked up, her expression was grave.
“If these records authenticate, multiple crimes occurred through the foundation.”
Laurel clasped her hands together.
“What happens to the foundation?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“How much can be recovered.”
Laurel looked down.
Joanna continued gently.
“You should understand something else. If your husband’s businesses are connected to these transactions, your cooperation could expose him too.”
Laurel had expected the warning.
Still, hearing it hurt.
“Will you protect him if I ask?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Joanna studied her.
“You didn’t hesitate.”
Laurel thought about Silas standing in the snow, not approaching after she stepped backward.
Then she thought about his hand crossing her face.
“I can love someone and still tell the truth about what they did.”
May you like
Joanna nodded.
“That distinction saves people years of their lives.”
