Wolfe Hartmann wished Victoria Edgewood did not panic that night.
He shrugged and drank from the scotch bottle, quietly pacing his living room. The tiny light blinking on the RF monitor strapped to his ankle was a stark reminder of his reality. And his future—prison. There was no coming back from this.
But he won't go down alone. The whole town must see Cole Edgewood for who he really was.
He cursed under his breath. Cole had been careless. They had agreed: no alerts or documents or trail regarding their work. Yet Cole allowed the alert from the offshore account on his phone. Victoria had seen it and that tipped her suspicions.
Her eyes widened in shock when he walked into the office that night. She stood near the hidden safe behind the giant portrait of Cole Edgewood taking his oath of office as mayor.
She knew. A bitter scowl hardened her face.
She held the box to her side with one hand and some documents on the other hand. “You and Cole are unbelievable. That was my son's life!”
She was trembling too. Her voice was becoming uncomfortably loud in the empty office building. “I trusted you,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “Both of you!”
Wolfe held up his hands as though at a gun point. “Calm down, Victoria. Those,” he nodded towards the documents, “are not representative of the facts—”
Her eyes flashed. “What do you mean? You think I'm dumb?” She shook the papers.
“Vict—”
“Clinical trials using unapproved drugs and experiments. Cole told me the trial was safe for my baby! And now, he's gone.” She cried. “Worse, you both stole from the waterfront redevelopment project. It's a standstill now and the people of this town are suffering because of you!”
“It was to pay for the trials,” Wolfe said, his heart pounding in his ears. “To save your son.”
At that moment, he knew his explanations were pointless. She knew everything. And that meant he and Cole are finished. What would his mother think of him? His political career would collapse, only if she talked.
Those thoughts quickly flashed through his mind, drowning out Victoria's rambling except the final part. “....the city council must know about—”
He saw red at that moment.
Her screams pierced his overloaded mind. Distant and…musical, like a shrill aria in an opera.
Next, she was on the floor at his feet. Dead.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece which is a chapter in a thriller series. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "not representative of the facts". You can follow the attached links to keep up with the story.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Image credit: Willgard