Chapter 7 - Checkmate in the Driveway
I walked back into the dining room. The atmosphere had completely fractured.
Logan was standing, leaning aggressively over the table, whispering furiously at Aaron. Mom was looking between them, confused and frightened. When Logan saw me, he straightened up, smoothing his tie.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice tight.
“Everything is perfectly fine,” I said, walking to the head of the table. I gently took my mother’s hands. “Mom, Sophie is going to take you home now through the back door. Her Uber is waiting.”
“What? Why?” Logan stepped forward, his facade finally cracking. “The dinner isn't over. We haven't had cake.”
“The dinner is over, Logan,” I said, turning to face him. I let all the fear, all the intimidation, and all the silence I had carried for years fall away. I looked at the man who had planned to slaughter us for a paycheck. “I know about the brakes. I know about the life insurance. And I know about the funeral home.”
The color completely drained from Logan’s face. He stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, the confident, controlling monster reduced to a stunned statue.
Aaron made a choked, gasping sound. He stumbled backward, knocking his chair over with a loud crash. “I told you!” Aaron screamed at Logan, tears streaming down his face. “I told you it was a mistake! You said she wouldn't figure it out!”
“Shut up, you idiot!” Logan snarled, dropping the nice-guy act entirely. He lunged toward me, his hands reaching for my throat, desperate to silence me, to take back control of a narrative that was rapidly disintegrating.
He never made it.
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The heavy doors to the private dining room swung open, and three uniformed police officers stepped inside, followed by a plainclothes detective. They didn't shout or draw weapons; the sheer authority of their presence stopped Logan in his tracks.
“Logan Vance, Aaron Bennett,” the detective said calmly, holding up a pair of handcuffs. “You are both under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, insurance fraud, and grand larceny.”
