Chapter 7 - The Trap
The tension reached a breaking point on a rainy Tuesday night. Callie and Geneva arrived at the Fairview property under the cover of a storm. The house looked ominous, its windows dark and gaping like eyes.
As they stepped through the back door, the floorboards groaned. They moved with flashlights, navigating the dust-choked halls toward the living room. Callie found the fireplace, the heavy stone mantle cold to the touch. With a pry bar, she began to loosen the decorative bricks near the base.
“There,” Geneva whispered, pointing.
Callie pulled a loose brick away and found a small, iron-bound wooden box. She gripped it, her heart thumping in her chest. But as she pulled it free, the room was flooded with light.
Joel and Dakota stood in the doorway, their expressions twisted with rage. Joel held a crowbar, and Dakota had her phone recording, her eyes wild.
“I knew you’d come back here,” Joel spat, stepping into the room. “You’re just like her, Callie. Always digging, always looking for a handout. Well, there’s no handout here. Give me that box.”
“It’s over, Joel,” Callie said, standing up and holding the box tight. “The documents are in here. And I have proof that the notary who signed your sale document was dead at the time of the signing. You’re not just going to lose the house; you’re going to prison.”
Dakota laughed, a high-pitched, manic sound. “You think you’re smart? We have the power of attorney. We have the medical records that say she’s incapable of signing anything. You’re holding a box of trash.”
“She’s not incapable,” Callie retorted, stepping aside to reveal Geneva, who stood perfectly still in the dim light, her gaze sharp and intelligent. “She’s the one who hid this. And she’s the one who’s going to tell the judge exactly what you’ve been doing to her.”
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The air in the room grew heavy with the sound of the rain against the roof. Joel raised the crowbar, his face contorted in a desperate, final act of violence. Callie didn't flinch. She had anticipated this, and she had already triggered a silent alarm connected to the local police precinct, thanks to a favor from one of the security guards she’d hired.
As Joel lunged, the sound of sirens began to wail in the distance, growing louder with every passing second, echoing through the empty, drafty house.
