Continue reading the story in Chapter Two...

Rowan looked past Victor at Delaney, whose eyes were filled with overwhelming panic and shame.

"Victor... listen to me," Rowan choked out, struggling to breathe beneath the crush of the boot on his ribs. "The kids... Micah and Elsie... they're at Vanderbilt Hospital. They're safe. The police know everything."

Victor’s scarred face twisted into a vicious sneer. "You think I care about the police? I spent twenty-five years locked inside a concrete box while Arthur Vance lived in a nice house in East Nashville, paid for his daughter’s college tuition, and bought a cabin on the lake with my money!"

Victor pulled a long, serrated hunting knife from his belt and held the cold steel blade directly under Rowan’s chin.

"Arthur left a safety deposit box key in his official guard locker when he died," Victor growled. "Delaney took his personal effects five years ago. I know the box is registered under a fictitious name in this very courthouse vault, because Arthur used this building's old archive records to hide dirty money for corrupt politicians in the nineties!"

"I don't have a key!" Delaney screamed as Victor reached over and ripped the duct tape from her mouth. "I swear to you, Victor! My father didn't leave me money! He left me three thousand dollars in debt and an old fishing tackle box!"

"LIAR!" Victor roared, swinging his knife toward Delaney’s face.

"WAIT!" Rowan yelled, his voice echoing frantically through the cavernous vault. "The tackle box! Delaney, think!"

Delaney froze, her breathing coming in jagged, terrified gasps. "What?"

"The old brass tackle box Arthur kept in the garage!" Rowan said, his mind racing through every memory of his late father-in-law. "Remember when we moved your things out of his house five years ago? The bottom tray had a false brass plate with a stamped serial number—V-14-B!"

Victor slowly lowered his knife, his dark eyes locking onto Rowan. "V-14-B... Vault 14, Bay B. That's the old county evidence locker system!"

Victor turned his flashlight beam toward the far wall of the vault, revealing a bank of heavy, rusted steel safety drawers embedded into the foundation stone.

"Where is the key, girl?" Victor demanded, stepping over to Delaney and grabbing her chin roughly.

"It's... it's not a key," Delaney wept, her voice breaking. "It was an old brass tie clip my father always wore to church. It had a strange notch on the back... I kept it inside my jewelry box at the house!"

"At her house..." Victor muttered, turning toward the doorway. "The house where those little brat kids were..."

Suddenly, a loud, thunderous metallic bang echoed from the top of the basement stairwell!

FLASH-BANG!

A blinding white light and a deafening explosion shattered the darkness, blinding Victor and knocking him backward onto the floor!