Chapter 8 - The Marble Angel
The rain began to fall in heavy, rhythmic sheets as our black SUV pulled through the wrought-iron gates of Westchester Memorial Cemetery. The sprawling graveyard was shrouded in mist, the ancient oak trees casting long, jagged shadows across the headstones.
Ethan held a heavy flashlight, while Marcus carried a short entrenching shovel. I walked between them, holding my coat tight against the cold wind.
We navigated the winding stone paths until we reached the grand mausoleum of the Caldwell family. Standing adjacent to the stone vault was a life-sized statue of a weeping angel carved from white Italian marble.
"This is it," I said, pointing my light at the base of the statue. "The marble angel."
Marcus dropped to his knees, using the shovel to pry away the overgrown ivy and decorative gravel around the pedestal. After two minutes of digging, the metallic scrape of steel against plastic echoed through the quiet graveyard.
"Got something," Marcus said, pulling a waterproof, heavy-duty Pelican case from the mud.
Ethan took the case, popping the heavy plastic latches. Inside lay three encrypted thumb drives, a ledger of offshore bank account numbers, and an audio recorder.
Ethan pressed Play on the small digital recorder.
Margaret Hargrove’s voice played clearly through the speaker, crisp and cold:
"If you are listening to this, Julian, it means you attempted to eliminate me. Every transaction for the synthesis of the compound is logged here. Every bribe paid to Dr. Sterling and the members of the corporate board is documented. But most importantly, I have the original audio recording from the night Ethan's wife died. You didn't just sabotage her vehicle to clear Ethan off the board, Julian. You ordered the hit."
I caught my breath, looking at Ethan.
Ethan’s face was completely unreadable, but his knuckles turned stark white against the casing of the recorder. The silence that followed was suffocating.
"He killed her," Ethan whispered, his voice dangerously soft. "He killed my wife... and made me believe it was my past catching up to me."
"Ethan..." I reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We have him now. This isn't just family court anymore. This is premeditated murder and corporate treason."
Suddenly, the headlights of three heavy black SUVs illuminated the cemetery path, blinding us with high beams.
Engine doors slammed shut in unison. Men in dark raincoats stepped out, weapons drawn.
May you like
From the middle vehicle stepped Julian Caldwell, holding an open umbrella.
"Hand over the case, Ethan," Julian said smoothly, stepping over the wet grass. "You were always too predictable. Margaret always was a paranoid bitch, but her paranoia ends tonight."
