Chapter 11 - The Bloody Print
Sarah recoiled from the door, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as the crimson handprint smeared slowly down the glass. The porch light flickered and died, plunging the entryway into absolute darkness.
“Sarah! Get away from the door!” Mr. Bell shouted, rushing down the stairs two at a time, still clutching the silver pocket watch.
Before Mr. Bell could reach the entryway, the heavy brass deadbolt turned from the outside with a smooth, silent click. The door swung open, revealing an empty porch bathed in pale moonlight. There was no man in a trench coat, no blood on the glass, and no footprints on the freshly swept wooden boards.
Only a single object sat on the welcome mat: the black leather briefcase, damp and smelling faintly of river water.
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Sophie pressed closer to Sarah’s side, her eyes wide with terror. “It’s the case Mommy left in the car,” she whispered. “The one the bad men took.”
Mr. Bell approached the doorway cautiously, his boots clicking softly on the floor. He knelt, lifted the briefcase by its handle, and carried it into the study. When he snapped the brass latches open, the contents inside revealed a truth far deeper than corporate fraud—a secret that connected the Bellamy empire to a hidden underground network of political blackmail.
