Chapter 10 - THE MIDNIGHT SIGNAL
The following evening, David drove me back to the edge of the estancia grounds. He parked beneath the same trees, a safe distance from the gates. The sun had set, painting the sky in bruised purples and deep blues. Lights began appearing in the windows of the manor house.
David turned on the car’s external speaker system—AG Russo’s people had installed it days earlier, capable of projecting sound clearly over long distances without pinpointing the source.
“Stay here,” David said, opening his door.
“Where are you going?”
“Closer. To the treeline.” He paused, looking back at me. “If anything goes wrong… drive away. Get to Inspector Torres. Tell her what happened.”
“David, don’t—”
But he was already gone, melting into the shadows.
I waited. Minutes stretched like hours. I watched the house, the lighted windows, the guards pacing beneath the outdoor lamps. Every heartbeat felt too loud.
Then, faintly across the fields, music drifted.
It was the song—soft, familiar, the melody Elena had hummed while making coffee, while reading, while she thought no one was listening. It floated through the darkness, gentle and clear, cutting through the silence of the estate.
I saw movement on the second-floor balcony.
Elena stepped out. She stood perfectly still, one hand resting on the stone railing, listening. She looked around—at the gardens, at the trees, toward the dark line of forest where David stood hidden.
She took a step forward.
A light blazed on below. The front door opened. Julian Voss stormed out, followed by two guards. He looked up at Elena, then scanned the darkness. He shouted something—angry, sharp. Elena stepped back from the railing.
Voss pointed toward the trees. The guards began moving in our direction, flashlights cutting beams through the dark.
Then Elena did something. She leaned far over the railing. And she dropped something.
A small, white bundle. It fluttered down, landing in the grass near the garden wall.
Voss saw it. He turned toward the spot.
From the darkness, David’s voice rang out—clear and loud, carrying across the distance.
“Elena! I’m here!”
Voss froze. Then he laughed—a harsh, barking sound. He shouted orders to his men. Half ran toward the trees. Half rushed back into the house.
I saw Elena step back through the balcony doors. The curtains slammed shut behind her.
The guards were getting closer. Flashlights swept the treeline. I reached for the car keys, ready to drive forward to create a distraction.
Then David emerged from the shadows, running low, clutching something white in his hand. He threw himself into the passenger seat.
“Drive!”
I slammed the car into gear and sped away, tires kicking up gravel, as shouts erupted behind us. We raced down the long driveway, onto the main road, and did not slow down until we were miles away.
Only then did David open his hand.
Resting in his palm was a small, folded note. Written in Elena’s handwriting, shaking and hurried:
**He’s moving me tonight. To a safe house near the border. I can’t leave. He has someone watching the baby. I’m sorry. Tell David I love him. And tell him—Arthur Sterling wasn’t the only judge on his father’s list. There’s another. A higher one. Named Perez.**
David stared at the words. His face went pale.
“Perez,” he whispered. “The judge who will sign the extradition denial.”
“He’s already bought the decision,” I said, horrified. “Before we even filed.”
David crumpled the note gently in his fist, then smoothed it out and tucked it carefully inside his jacket.
“Voss is running,” David said. “Tonight. Toward the border. And he’s taking Elena—and our child—with him.”
May you like
He pulled out his phone and dialed Inspector Torres.
“Judge Perez is compromised,” David said when she answered. “Voss is moving Elena tonight. To the border. Get your men. Now.”
