Chapter 48 - Stand-Off in the Crypt
The silence in the crypt was so absolute that the steady dripping of rainwater sounded like hammer blows.
"Grandmother?" Tyler choked, slowly rising from the mud. The color drained from his face until he looked paler than the marble slabs surrounding him. "How... how did you get down here?"
"I built this estate, Tyler, while you were still an unkind thought in your father's mind," I said, stepping forward until the lantern light caught the hard lines of my face. "And I know every tunnel, every brick, and every sin buried beneath this soil."
"Who the hell is that old man?" one of the hired hands hissed, glancing nervously at Julian. "Kid, you said the old lady lived alone! Who is that with the shotgun?"
"Julian Vance," Tyler muttered, his eyes darting frantically between us. "The bastard from downriver. I told you I locked him in the cistern!"
"You tried," Julian said, his voice dropping into a register so dark and cold it startled me. "Just like your grandfather tried to bury my mother. But rotten wood breaks, young man, and so do dirty schemes."
"Listen to me, Grandmother," Tyler stammered, holding the tin box against his chest like an infant. "You don't understand what this is! This isn't just money. This is the entire northern ridge! The state is paying four million dollars for the highway right-of-way! Dad owes three million to the loan sharks in Jersey. If we don't have this deed, they’re going to kill him! They're going to tear down the house anyway!"
"Then let them come to me," I replied coldly. "Your father made his bed with criminals, and you chose to lie in it with him. Did you really think Thomas left you a fortune in that box?"
"It has the bearer covenant!" Tyler screamed, clutching the box tighter. "His signature! His seal! It gives all unallocated Mercer acreage to the bearer of this seal!"
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"Drop the guns, old woman," the larger of the two dockworkers suddenly growled, taking a threatening half-step forward with his crowbar raised. "There's three of us and two of you. You shoot once, you're dead before you can reload."
"I have two barrels, young man," Julian answered without flinching. "And Evelyn has two. That makes four holes through your chests before your crowbar clears your hip. Do you want to test whether an eighty-year-old woman's hand shakes?"
