Chapter 5 - THE CABIN IN THE MOUNTAINS
Dawn was breaking gray and cold when we reached the mountains.
The cabin stood alone in a clearing, surrounded by pine and mist. Wood smoke curled from the chimney. Someone was home.
David parked the car behind a stand of trees. We sat watching the cabin.
“Ellison’s assistant,” David said. “His name is Mark. Mark Carter. He’s worked for us four years. Quiet. Efficient. Never caused trouble.”
“Quiet men make the best spies,” I said. “Elena saw him passing something to Julian. Money. Instructions. We need to know exactly what.”
Thomas turned from the front seat. “The prosecutor sent two officers. They’re circling the perimeter now. We wait for their signal before moving in.”
We waited. Ten minutes. Fifteen. The air was still and cold.
Then Thomas’s radio crackled. The officers were in position. No sign of guards. No alarms.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We walked up the path quietly. The cabin was small. One main room below, bedrooms above. A porch wrapped around two sides.
I signaled for the officers to take the rear. Thomas stepped up beside me. David stayed slightly behind.
I knocked once.
No answer.
I knocked again. “Mark? It’s Margaret Holloway. I need to speak with you.”
Silence.
Thomas tried the handle. Unlocked. He pushed the door open slowly.
Inside, the cabin was warm. A fire burned in the stone hearth. Mugs of coffee sat on the table. Still steaming.
“He was here,” Thomas said. “Recently.”
We stepped inside. The main room was neat. Papers stacked on the desk. A laptop open.
David walked to the desk. “Mom… look at this.”
He pointed to the screen. An email draft. Addressed to Julian Voss.
*The money is safe. No one knows I’m here. But Margaret’s people are getting close. If they find me, I tell them everything. I want more money. And I want safe passage out of the country.*
I leaned closer. “When was this sent?”
“Not sent,” David said. “Still in draft.”
“Which means he was writing it when we knocked,” I said. “He is still here.”
Thomas drew his weapon. “Check upstairs. Check outside.”
The officers moved. I walked to the window. The forest behind the cabin was thick with trees and fog. He could have slipped out the back.
Then I saw it. The back door stood slightly ajar. And on the wooden step outside, fresh blood.
“Thomas,” I said.
He was beside me in an instant.
We stepped out into the cold air. The blood trail led into the woods. Fresh drops. Bright red.
“He didn’t leave voluntarily,” Thomas said. “Someone came for him. Before we arrived.”
“Julian,” David said. “He knew we were coming. He sent someone to silence him.”
We followed the trail. It wound down the slope, toward a small lake half-hidden in mist. The blood became heavier. Mark was losing strength fast.
Then we found him.
He lay on the shore, curled on his side. His coat was soaked through. A dark stain spread across his chest.
David dropped to his knees. “Mark!”
Mark’s eyes fluttered open. He saw me. His lips moved.
“Mrs. Holloway…”
“Who did this?” I knelt beside him. “Tell us, Mark. Who sent you?”
“Julian,” he whispered. “Voss. Paid me. To help Rachel. To alter the papers. To plant the transmitter.”
“The transmitter in my house?”
“Yes,” he breathed. “Julian told me… everything Rachel did… Julian planned it. Rachel was just… his tool.”
“And the fire?” I asked. “Did Julian order that too?”
Mark shuddered. His breathing grew shallow.
“He said… destroy the vault. Or we all go to jail. I didn’t know he would… use explosives. I swear it.”
“Mark,” I said. “Who else is working with him? There must be someone else.”
Mark gripped my hand. His fingers were cold.
“Mr. Ellison knows,” he said. “But he’s too afraid to speak. Julian has something on him. Something from the past. And there’s… one more.”
“One more what?” I leaned closer. “Mark, tell me the name.”
He tried to speak. His eyes widened. Fear flashed across his face.
“He’s here,” Mark whispered. “He saw me.”
“Who?”
Mark’s voice broke. “The partner. The real one. Julian answers to him too.”
“Mark—what is his name?”
Mark’s head fell back. His hand loosened in mine.
“Mark!” David shook him gently. “Stay with us!”
It was too late. Mark’s eyes stared blankly at the gray sky. He was gone.
I stood up slowly. The cold had seeped into my bones.
Julian was not the mastermind. He was just another tool. There was someone above him. Someone so powerful Julian took orders from him.
“Mom,” David said quietly. “What did he mean? Julian answers to someone else?”
“That is what I am beginning to fear,” I said. “That Rachel was the smallest part of this. That there is a network. A conspiracy reaching higher than I ever imagined.”
Thomas walked up from the treeline. His face was tight.
“No footprints leading away from the body,” he said. “Only ours. And the trail ends exactly where we found him.”
“Which means the killer watched us find him,” I said. “And slipped away while we were watching Mark die.”
Thomas held out something he had found half-buried in the moss. A small, silver lighter. Engraved with initials.
*R.H.*
David stared. “Rachel’s lighter. She got it for her birthday two years ago.”
“But Rachel is in custody,” I said.
“Which means,” Thomas said, “that whoever killed Mark wanted us to believe Rachel did it. Or… that she has help reaching her from inside the jail.”
May you like
I looked at the lighter. The initials gleamed in the dull light.
“Or,” I said slowly, “that Rachel is not the only one who carries it.”
