Chapter 5 - The Ambush in the Dark
The screech of rubber tearing against concrete echoed violently off the low concrete ceiling of the parking structure. Gideon didn't flinch. As the hooded attacker swung the iron bar down with brutal force, Gideon sidestepped with surprising agility, letting the heavy metal strike glancingly against the driver’s side door, leaving a deep, jagged dent in the black paint.
Before the man could recover his balance, Gideon drove his right shoulder forward, slamming into the attacker’s chest and sending him crashing backward against the hood of the silver sedan.
“Who sent you?!” Gideon demanded, pinning the man against the metal frame with one forearm pressed tightly against his throat.
The attacker thrashed wildly, struggling for air, his dark hood slipping backward to reveal a sharp, sweat-beaded face I had never seen before. He wasn't a corporate executive or a lawyer; he looked like a professional heavy-for-hire, someone accustomed to doing dirty work in the shadows.
“Let... let me go, you son of a bitch!” the man choked out, his hands clawing uselessly at Gideon’s sleeve.
I threw my door open, stepping out onto the cold pavement, my heart pounding in my ears. “Gideon, check his pockets! See if he has a phone or a communication log!”
Hearing my voice, the attacker’s eyes darted toward me with a flash of malicious panic. With a sudden, explosive burst of adrenaline, he swept his leg hard against Gideon’s knee, throwing him off balance just enough to break the hold.
The man scrambled backward, diving into the open door of the silver sedan, slamming the accelerator to the floor before Gideon could grab him. The tires spun furiously against the concrete, kicking up a cloud of white smoke and gravel, before the car rocketed out of the parking structure and vanished into the evening traffic.
Gideon stood up, brushing dust off his slacks, breathing heavily as he watched the taillights disappear down the street. He looked down at the ground where the attacker had dropped something during the scuffle.
He bent down and picked it up.
It was a sleek, high-end smartphone with a cracked screen, glowing faintly with an active notification banner.
Gideon walked over to me, holding the phone out so I could see the screen.
My breath hitched in my throat.
The notification wasn't a missed call or a text message. It was a recent bank transfer confirmation alert from an encrypted mobile banking app, showing a wire deposit of fifty thousand dollars made ten minutes ago—originating from a personal account registered under the name Douglas Palmer.
“He didn't just want to scare us,” Gideon said grimly, his dark eyes meeting mine under the flickering streetlamp. “He wanted us silenced before we ever made it out of downtown.”
I stared at the glowing screen, the cold reality settling over me with terrifying clarity. Douglas hadn't just stolen a company or lied about our past. He was willing to resort to violence to keep his secrets buried.
And as my phone buzzed violently in my pocket with an incoming call from the Cherry Hills nanny, my blood ran even colder.
With shaking fingers, I pulled the phone out and swiped to answer.
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“Hello?” I gasped, my voice trembling.
“Mrs. Palmer?” a frantic, terrified voice cried through the speaker. “Thank god I got through! You need to come back right now—some men just tried to force their way past the front gate, and Toby and Maisie are missing!”
