Mój siostrzeniec zadzwonił do mnie o 5 rano: „Babciu, proszę… nie zakładaj dziś czerwonego płaszcza”. Jego głos drżał. „Dlaczego?” – zapytałam. „Wkrótce zrozumiesz” – mruknął. O 9 rano poszłam złapać autobus. Kiedy tam dotarłam, zamarłam – i zrozumiałam dlaczego.

“Some of it.” His hands were shaking. “Grandma, it’s worse than you think. Vanessa didn’t just forge one deed. She forged multiple documents over the past six months—loan applications in your name, a power of attorney, even a new will supposedly signed by you leaving everything to her and Dad. And there are emails about… about making sure you had an accident after the deed transfer was complete.”

The world went very cold. “She was planning to kill me.”

“Rachel recorded phone conversations. In one of them, Vanessa talks about how you’re ‘old and frail’ and how ‘these things happen on farms.’ She was going to stage an accident.” Danny looked at me with eyes full of guilt and terror. “I helped her, Grandma. By giving Rachel that information, I helped Vanessa set you up.”

I pulled him closer. “You didn’t know. And you warned me in time. You saved my life, Danny.”

“But Rachel’s dead. That’s my fault too.”

“What happened this morning?”

“Rachel called me at four-thirty a.m., absolutely terrified. Said someone was following her, that she’d been getting threats. During Sunday dinner, she’d taken your red coat from the mudroom—she needed something with your smell for some reason, she wouldn’t say why. She was going to meet you at the bus stop this morning to confess everything and give you the evidence. She said if anything happened to her, I should warn you. Then the line went dead.”

“Did she say who was threatening her?”

“No. But there’s more on the drive. Files I can’t access. The last folder is encrypted with military-grade security. I don’t know the password. And there’s a video file that won’t play—just shows an error message. Rachel said those were the most important files, the ones that would ‘burn everything down.’ And in some of the emails, she mentions paying someone in the sheriff’s department to look the other way.”

Before I could respond, footsteps echoed from below. Heavy boots. At least three people, moving with purpose.

“Mrs. Foster?” a voice called out. Male, authoritative. “We know you’re in here. We just want to talk. Make this easy.”

Danny pulled me toward a back office that overlooked the river thirty feet below. Through the broken window, I could see the moonlight glinting on the dark water. There was a fire escape, rusty but maybe still functional.

Before we could reach it, the office door opened. A man stood silhouetted against the dim light—wearing a deputy’s uniform and pointing a gun at us.

“I’m Deputy Marcus Hall,” he said. “Sheriff Brennan sent me to bring you both in safely.”

“Stay back,” I said, pushing Danny behind me.

Then a woman’s voice came from behind the deputy. A voice I knew well. “Put the gun down, Marcus. We don’t want to shoot them unless we have to.”

Vanessa stepped into view, immaculate even at midnight in designer clothes and perfect makeup. She looked at me with something like triumph. “Hello, Alexia. I believe my stepson has something that belongs to me.”

Deputy Hall kept his weapon trained on us while Vanessa moved closer.

“You killed her,” I said. Not a question. A statement.

“Of course not,” Vanessa’s smile was terrible. “That’s what hired help is for. I don’t get my hands dirty. Marcus here has a cousin who does freelance work. Rachel thought she was meeting him to pick up a payment. She didn’t expect the knife.”

“And you’re going to kill us too?”

“Not if you’re smart. You’re going to sign over your farm tonight, right here, with Deputy Hall as a legal witness. I have the new deed in my car. Then you’re going to have a tragic accident on your way home. Elderly woman, dark country roads, icy conditions. These things happen. Very sad. The farm will pass to Robert as your sole heir, and I’ll finally have what I deserve.”

“People know we’re here,” I said.

Vanessa laughed. “No one knows. Your son is at home drowning his sorrows in whiskey. You left him a note saying you’d be back by two, but unfortunately, you won’t be. Now, give me the thumb drive before Marcus has to hurt your grandson to convince you.”

Danny’s hand closed around mine, pressing the small drive into my palm. I pulled out my phone, held it up so Vanessa and her corrupt deputy could see the screen clearly.

It was recording. And the red light showed it was live-streaming.

“I’ve been a farmer’s wife for forty years, Vanessa. I’ve survived drought, flood, and economic collapse that broke men twice your size. I’ve run a two-thousand-acre ranch that everyone said was too much for a woman. I’ve pulled calves and mended fence and outlasted three banks that tried to foreclose on me. And one thing I’ve learned—always document everything.”

Vanessa’s face went white. “You’re bluffing.”

“I called Tom Brennan before I left home. Told him exactly where I’d be and what I suspected. They’ve been listening to every word you just said.” I turned the phone so they could see the screen clearly. It showed an active call to a number labeled “Sheriff Tom Brennan – Emergency.”

Deputy Hall reached for his gun. And that’s when the real police kicked in the door downstairs.

“Marcus Hall, hands where I can see them! NOW!” Tom Brennan’s voice was steel. Behind him, three state troopers fanned out with assault rifles raised.

Vanessa tried to bolt, but a trooper caught her before she’d gone three steps. “This is a misunderstanding!” she shrieked. “My mother-in-law is mentally unstable! She’s been acting erratically for months! We have documentation!”

“Save it for your lawyer,” Tom said, pulling out handcuffs. “We’ve been listening to your confession for the past ten minutes. Recording it all.”

As the troopers led them away, Vanessa turned back, her mask of civility completely shattered. “This isn’t over, Alexia. I have excellent lawyers. Money. Connections. You’ll never prove I killed Rachel. I’ll be out by morning, and when I am, I’m coming for everything you have. Your farm, your family, your life.”

Tom stepped between us. “You just threatened a witness in front of six law enforcement officers, Mrs. Foster. Thanks for that. Makes my job a lot easier.”.

The next morning, I sat in the sheriff’s station watching the forensic team work on Rachel Morrison’s thumb drive. They’d connected it to their computers, running decryption software that looked like something from a science fiction movie.

“The encrypted files are protected by military-grade encryption,” the young tech explained. “AES-256 bit. Without the password, it could take years to crack.”

“So Vanessa might walk?” My stomach churned.

Tom set a coffee cup in front of me. “The DA is reviewing what we have. The recording from last night is damning, but Vanessa’s lawyer is already claiming entrapment, saying you set her up. The forged deeds might not stick—she’s got a notary who’ll swear you signed them willingly. And without solid evidence linking her to Rachel’s murder, we might only get her on conspiracy and fraud charges.”

“What about Deputy Hall?”

“He’s singing like a canary, trying to cut a deal. Says Vanessa paid him fifty thousand dollars to ignore certain things. Says he didn’t know about the murder until after it happened. But he can’t give us the actual killer—claims he only has a phone number for Vanessa’s ‘cousin,’ probably a burner phone that’s already been destroyed.”

Detective Merrick walked in. “It gets worse. The judge just set Vanessa’s bail at two hundred thousand dollars. Her lawyer posted it an hour ago. She’s out.”

My blood ran cold. “She’s free?”

“For now. But there’s a hearing this afternoon about the property deed. If we can prove forgery, at least we can freeze the transfer.”

My phone rang. An unknown number. Against my better judgment, I answered on speaker.

“Hello, Alexia.” Vanessa’s voice was smooth, triumphant. “I’m calling from my lawyer’s office to inform you that while I regret the misunderstanding last night, we will be proceeding with the property transfer as planned. We’re also filing a civil suit against you for defamation, and we’ve filed for an emergency competency hearing. Given your age, your recent erratic behavior, and the fact that you assaulted law enforcement last night—”

“I didn’t assault anyone,” I interrupted.