Chapter 6 - The Confession in the Rain
Descending the steep, muddy embankment with Detective Cole and two tactical officers, Delaney felt no fear—only a burning, righteous anger. The rain soaked her clothes and hair, but she barely felt the freezing temperature.
Marcus was lying in the mud near the bank of the swollen creek, groaning in agony. His left leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and blood poured from a deep cut on his forehead. Yet, even as he bled, his bloodstained hands held tightly to the heavy canvas duffel bag filled with stolen cash and bearer bonds.
When the heavy beam of Cole’s tactical flashlight illuminated his face, Marcus winced, shielding his eyes with his arm.
“Marcus Vance,” Cole yelled over the roaring sound of the rain and rushing creek. “Do not reach for anything! Keep your hands where we can see them!”
Marcus coughed bitterly, spitting blood into the mud. He looked up, his eyes passing over the police officers until they landed directly on Delaney standing at the edge of the slope.
His face contorted into a mixture of shock, terror, and desperate fury.
“Delaney...” he gasped, his voice raspy. “You... you were supposed to be in the hospital.”
Delaney stepped closer, stopping just out of his reach. Her voice was steady, cold, and sharper than ice. “You thought you could destroy my mind, Marcus. You thought you could erase my dad, erase my sister, and wipe away my life so you could take what wasn't yours.”
“It wasn't supposed to go this far!” Marcus cried out, tears mixing with the rain on his bloodied cheeks. “It was Patricia! She planned the whole thing! She said your dad was going to cut me out of the company! She said we deserved that money!”
“You struck me with a iron bookend!” Delaney screamed, the sound echoing off the rock walls of the ravine. “You watched your mother poison me every single morning! You lied to my face while I wept, thinking I was losing my mind!”
“I loved you!” Marcus sobbed frantically, reaching a hand out toward her in a pathetic plea for mercy. “Delaney, please... I panicked! I was scared of losing everything! Help me... please tell them it was an accident!”
“I don't owe you anything,” Delaney said quietly.
Detective Cole stepped forward, pulling Marcus’s arms behind his back and snapping heavy steel handcuffs over his wrists. Marcus screamed in pain as his broken leg shifted, but Cole showed no leniency, dragging him up the muddy slope toward the waiting ambulances above.
As the emergency lights red and blue flashes illuminated the dark trees, a sleek black town car pulled up to the top of the ridge. The door flew open, and a young woman with dark hair and a heavy winter coat sprinted past the police tape.
“Delaney!”
Delaney turned around. “Wren!”
Her younger sister threw her arms around Delaney, weeping hysterically, holding her as if she might vanish into thin air. “I came as fast as I could! Oh my God, Delaney, I’m so sorry! I tried to call you for weeks, but Marcus kept telling me you were in a psychiatric clinic!”
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Delaney buried her face in her sister’s shoulder, tears finally pouring freely from her eyes—not tears of pain or terror, but of profound, overwhelming relief.
“I remembered your number, Wren,” Delaney whispered, sobbing softly. “I remembered.”
