Chapter 4 - The Hunt at the Docks
The industrial district near the southern piers was choked with sea fog, the smell of salt, rust, and diesel fuel hanging thick in the air.
A silver SUV pulled up silently behind a row of rusted shipping containers fifty yards away from the Sea Breeze Motel—a dilapidated two-story building with peeling yellow paint and a flickering neon sign.
Inside the SUV, Emma adjusted the rearview mirror, checking her concealed carry holster beneath her leather jacket. Beside her, Marcus sat in the back seat, holding a heavy iron tire iron he had pulled from the trunk. In the front passenger seat, Sophia was staring intently at Room 114 on the ground floor.
"Let me go in first," Emma instructed, her eyes locked on the curtained window of Room 114. "Pierre is scared. If he sees you two, he might panic and run, or worse, do something stupid."
"He helped a man try to murder me for money," Sophia said, her voice hard as steel. "I’m not sitting in this car while you do all the work, Emma."
"This isn't a board meeting, Miss Sterling," Emma said sternly, turning to face her. "This is a man who knows he’s facing twenty years as an accessory to attempted murder. He has nothing left to lose. Stay behind me, do what I say, and don't make a sound."
Emma slipped out of the vehicle, her sneakers making no noise against the damp asphalt. Sophia and Marcus followed close behind, staying low behind the line of parked, rusted sedans.
They reached the door of Room 114. The faint sound of a television news broadcast was audible from inside—a reporter talking about the wedding scandal.
Emma pulled a small lock-picking set from her pocket, inserted the tension wrench into the knob, and within eight seconds, the deadbolt clicked open with a soft thunk.
She kicked the door open. "Police! Nobody move!"
Inside, Pierre Laurent—a heavy-set man still wearing his white chef trousers—screamed, knocking over a laminate table covered with empty beer cans and cash envelopes. He reached frantically for a heavy butcher knife sitting on the counter.
"Don't even think about it, Pierre!" Emma barked, drawing her glock and pointing it directly at his chest.
Pierre froze, his face pale, sweat pouring down his neck. "I... I didn't do anything! I didn't know what was in the bottle! He told me it was an expensive vintage liqueur he wanted to surprise her with!"
"Liar!"
Sophia stepped out from behind Emma, her eyes ablaze with fury.
Pierre’s eyes widened in horror as he recognized the bride standing in the doorway, no longer in white satin, but looking at him like an executioner. "Miss... Miss Sterling..."
"You took five hundred thousand dollars from Victor Vance, didn't you?" Sophia spat, walking right up to the barrel of Emma’s gun, forcing Pierre to back up against the bathroom door. "You cleared my kitchen! You let him poison my food! You knew I was going to eat it!"
"I didn't know it was poison! I swear on my mother's soul!" Pierre sobbed, dropping to his knees, throwing his hands over his head. "Ethan told me it was a harmless drug to make you feel sick so you’d have to cancel the reception and leave early! He said he wanted to get you away from your family! I didn't know it was cyanide!"
"You're going to tell that to the judge," Marcus growled, stepping into the room and grabbing Pierre by his collar, dragging him up off the floor and throwing him against the wall. "Or I'll make sure you never walk into a kitchen again."
Emma stepped forward, pulling a pair of zip-ties from her pocket and tossing them to Marcus. "Tie his hands. His phone is on the bed—let's see who he's been calling."
Emma picked up Pierre’s phone. The screen was still lit up with an active encrypted messaging app. The last message received was from an unregistered number, sent three minutes ago:
“The wire transfer is complete. The boat leaves at 3:00 PM. Make sure you delete this app, or my father will ensure you don't reach the harbor alive.”
"It's from Ethan’s legal team," Emma said, reading the screen. "They paid him off using an offshore account managed by Victor Vance’s personal secretary."
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Sophia looked at the screen, a cold, ruthless smile spreading across her face. "They wanted to claim there was no proof of bribery. Now we have the paper trail, the confession, and the witness."
She looked at Emma. "The bail hearing is in two hours. Let's give Arthur Pendelton a surprise he'll never forget."
