Chapter 5 - The Last Supper
The restaurant was an upscale Italian place downtown, warmly lit and filled with the innocent chatter of a hundred different families. We took an Uber. I instructed the driver to drop us off a block away so Logan and Aaron wouldn't see how we arrived.
When we walked into the private dining room, the scene was nauseatingly normal. Mom was seated at the head of the table, wearing her favorite silk scarf, smiling brightly despite the fog that sometimes clouded her memory. Aaron sat to her left, pouring her a glass of water. Logan stood near the back, looking handsome and sharply dressed, checking his watch.
When they saw us walk in together, alive and perfectly unharmed, a micro-expression of pure shock crossed Logan’s face. It was gone in a millisecond, replaced by a wide, welcoming smile, but I caught it. Aaron, however, looked physically ill. He dropped the water pitcher onto the table with a loud clatter.
“You made it,” Logan said, stepping forward to kiss my cheek. I forced myself not to flinch when his lips touched my skin. “Where’s the car? I didn't see you pull up.”
“We parked around back,” Sophie lied smoothly, stepping past him to hug our mother. “The front lot was totally full.”
Dinner was a psychological battlefield wrapped in polite conversation. Mom talked about her garden, oblivious to the fact that her son and son-in-law had spent her medical funds and planned a funeral for her youngest daughter. Every time Aaron looked at me, he quickly looked down at his plate. He was sweating, drinking his wine too fast.
Underneath the table, my phone buzzed. It was a text from the mechanic.
Jesus Christ. Someone took a wire cutter to your primary brake line and patched it with a dissolving compound. The fluid is dripping out. One hard stop at high speed, and the whole system blows. I’m calling the cops. Don’t come near this car.
I felt a tear slide down my cheek, but I wiped it away before anyone could see. I had the physical proof. The trap was documented.
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Now, we needed the final nail in the coffin: the original financial documents that proved Logan and Aaron acted together. And I knew exactly where Aaron kept his most sensitive business records. He didn't trust the bank, and he didn't trust Logan. He kept a locked briefcase in his truck.
I kicked Sophie under the table and gave her a sharp nod. It was time.
