Chapter 9: The Forest Road
The black SUV idled fifty feet away, its high beams pinning the Subaru like an insect under a glass. I dropped my hand down to check the latch on Leo’s car seat, reassuring myself he was locked in tight, then killed my headlights. Total darkness swallowed the interior, save for the faint amber glow of the dashboard clock reading 2:14 AM.
Through the rain-spattered glass, I watched the passenger-side door of the SUV open. A tall man with a dark trench coat stepped out, holding a large heavy-duty flashlight that swept a blinding white beam across the hood of my car. It was Miller, Evelyn's head of security—a man who had spent thirty years burying corporate scandals for the Vance family without ever raising his voice.
He walked forward slowly, his boots crunching on the wet gravel, and tapped twice on the driver's side window. The sound was sharp, authoritative, and entirely unhurried.
I didn't roll the window down. I reached across the center console, my fingers closing around the canvas pouch resting on the passenger seat, feeling the stiff, folded edge of the 1984 deeds through the canvas.
Miller tapped again, harder this time, his breath pluming white in the freezing night air. When I still didn't move, he leaned down, pressing his face close to the glass, his expression flat and devoid of any human warmth.
"Mrs. Vance," his voice was muffled by the glass, but every word carried clearly through the damp chill. "You’re making this difficult for everyone. Hand over the canvas pouch, take your child, and let us escort you back to the estate. Mrs. Vance has agreed to drop the trespassing charges."
"Tell Evelyn she'll need a federal warrant!" I shouted through the glass, my voice shaking with a sudden, fierce spike of adrenaline. "These papers belong to the state of Oregon now!"
Miller didn't blink. He straightened up, reached into his coat, and pulled out a small iron-handled crowbar from his pocket. He didn't waste time negotiating; he stepped back, raised the tool, and swung it directly at the rear passenger window.
The glass exploded inward with a deafening crash, showering the back seat with glittering shards. Leo woke up instantly, letting out a piercing, terrified shriek that cut through the roar of the wind.
"No!" I screamed, panic overriding my caution.
I threw the Subaru into reverse, stamped hard on the gas pedal, and popped the clutch. The tires spun furiously in the mud, screaming against the gravel before catching traction. The car lurched backward, fishtailing violently as it struck the side of the SUV with a dull, sickening thud. Metal ground against metal, sparks flying into the dark.
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Miller stumbled back, cursing, as the Subaru broke free of the blockade. I wrenched the steering wheel hard to the left, cutting through the brush and onto the narrow, unpaved logging trail that wound upward into the dense pine forest. The undergrowth scraped against the doors like scratching fingernails, but I kept my foot pressed flat to the floorboards, guiding the car entirely by the pale reflection of the wet ruts ahead.
Behind us, the heavy roar of the SUV’s engine revved as it backed out of the driveway and surged into pursuit, its headlights bouncing wildly through the trees. I didn't look back. I gripped the wheel with white knuckles, driving deeper into the dark, rain-soaked wilderness with every mile taking us further from the life Mark and his mother had built on lies.
