Evelyn turned.
One monitor showed a dark SUV stopping near the cottage.
Three men emerged.
One was Graham Voss.
The second carried a rifle.
The third man was tall and silver-haired.
Even after decades, I recognized the delicate metal frames of his glasses.
Samuel Vale looked directly into the camera.
Then he smiled.
“My father,” I whispered.
Evelyn grabbed the shotgun.
“No,” she said. “Your father is the man sitting in jail because he spent seventeen years keeping Samuel away from you.”
The lights went out.
Daniel pushed us behind the concrete wall as the first shot shattered the boathouse window above.
Evelyn opened a metal cabinet and handed Ben a flare gun.
“There’s a tunnel behind the food shelves.”
“Where does it lead?” Daniel asked.
“To the north shore.”
“You take Claire and Ben.”
“I’m staying.”
