Chapter 9 - The Brink
The sudden deceleration caught the driver of the heavy SUV completely off guard.
Because the road was a sheet of solid black ice, the heavier, faster armored vehicle couldn't stop. It overshot us instantly, sliding sideways down the slick pavement directly into the curving S-bend ahead.
The SUV’s heavy tires lost all traction. It spun wildly out of control, its rear end slamming hard into the concrete guardrail lining the sea cliff.
CRUNCH!
The concrete barrier exploded into dust and stone debris. The back half of the SUV swung out over the open air, dangling precariously three hundred feet above the crashing waves of the icy ocean below.
I brought the Dodge truck to a slithering stop fifty feet away, the heavy engine idling in the darkness.
Through the cracked windshield of the tilted SUV, I could see Victoria and her driver screaming in panic. Every time they tried to shift their weight to open the doors, the heavy vehicle creaked ominously, sliding another inch closer to the abyss.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket. As we had traveled three miles away from the mansion’s signal jammers, four bars of cellular service suddenly flashed back onto the screen.
I immediately dialed 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator’s calm voice filled the cab.
“My name is Sarah Ward,” I said clearly, my voice steady and unwavering. “I am reporting an attempted murder, corporate embezzlement, and a vehicle accident on Coastal Route 25 near the Moretti estate. Send state police, ambulances, and forensic units immediately.”
Ten minutes later, the flashing red and blue lights of a dozen New York State Police cruisers illuminated the frozen highway. Siren wails echoed through the icy night sky, cutting through the roar of the storm.
A team of emergency rescue officers secured heavy steel cables to the dangling SUV, dragging Victoria and her driver out through the windows moments before the heavy vehicle slipped off the rocky ledge and plunged down into the dark waters below.
As Victoria was pulled onto the firm pavement, wet, shivering, and covered in mud, state troopers immediately placed her in heavy steel handcuffs.
Detective Marcus Vance of the State Police major crimes unit stepped up to my truck, looking down at the flash drive in my hand, then down at little Mia sitting safely in the passenger seat.
“Are you Sarah Ward?” the detective asked softly.
May you like
I nodded, holding out the drive. “Everything you need to arrest Victoria Moretti and her co-conspirators is on this drive. And my daughter is prepared to give a full statement.”
The detective looked at my five-year-old daughter with profound respect. “You’ve got a brave little girl, ma’am.”
