Chapter 12 - The Iron Wrench
“You won't get away with it, Julian,” Ethan said, taking a slow half-step to the left, drawing Julian’s attention away from the desk where the tape deck was still softly spinning. “The toxicology report on Sophia is already in the hands of the police.”
Julian laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “The police? The police think Sophia is six feet underground right now, Ethan. And by tomorrow morning, after I stage your 'suicide' out of guilt for your sister's death, no one will be left to ask questions!”
Julian raised the silenced pistol, aligning the sight directly with Ethan’s chest.
CRASH!
From the darkness behind the safe, Emma lunged forward wielding a heavy iron boat wrench she had grabbed from the workbench. She swung it with all the force in her body, striking Julian’s outstretched wrist.
BANG!
The gun discharged wildly into the floorboards as Julian cried out in pain, dropping the weapon into the dark water of the boathouse slip.
Ethan didn't hesitate. He tackled Julian around the waist, slamming him back against the wooden support pillar. The two men struggled violently, fists flying in the dim light, knocking over shelves of tools and spare engine parts.
Julian pulled a small tactical knife from his coat pocket, slashing wildly at Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan gasped as the blade sliced through his suit jacket, but he grabbed Julian’s forearm, twisting it backward with brutal efficiency until the knife clattered to the floor.
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“Sophia! Now!” Emma screamed.
Sophia, despite her weakness, threw her weight against the heavy wooden lever near the dock—the manual release for the boathouse gate.
