Chapter 5 - Secrets of the Grave
Midnight at the Oaklawn Cemetery was suffocatingly quiet. A thick layer of fog rolled across the manicured lawns, swallowing the headstones in a ghostly shroud.
Marcus stayed in his truck at the perimeter, monitoring the police scanners and keeping his sniper rifle trained on the entrance. I walked through the iron gates with a crowbar in hand, Tessa walking closely beside me. It was surreal—walking with my alive, breathing wife to go desecrate her own burial plot.
When we reached the marble headstone that read Tessa Whitford – Beloved Wife and Mother, a lump formed in my throat. For three years, I had wept over this patch of grass.
"Here," Tessa whispered, pointing to the base of a weeping angel statue that adorned the top of the monument.
I wedged the crowbar into a small, decorative seam at the base. With a sharp groan of scraping stone, a hidden compartment popped open. Inside, sealed in a waterproof plastic bag, was a silver USB drive.
"Got it," I whispered, pulling it out.
Suddenly, a bright, blinding beam of light illuminated us from behind.
"I must admit, Mrs. Whitford, I underestimated your sentimentality," a cold, aristocratic voice echoed through the fog.
We spun around. Standing there, flanked by four heavily armed mercenaries, was a tall man in a tailored charcoal suit. His hair was slicked back, and his eyes were as cold as a reptile’s.
May you like
It was Arthur Vance.
"And Mr. Whitford," Vance smiled thinly, raising a silenced pistol. "You should have stayed a grieving widower. It was a much safer occupation."
