“Turn yourself in, Nathan!” he shouted. “The cops will think you killed the mechanic. You’re finished anyway.”
Nathan pulled Lauren’s letter from his pocket and held it up.
“I have proof!” he shouted back. “The contract, the records, your signatures. You can kill me, but the truth will come out.”
Victor laughed—a short, bitter sound.
“Pray the world actually cares,” he sneered, motioning for one of his men to aim.
Before the shot could ring out, a siren screamed through the fog. Another followed. And another. Red and blue lights flashed among the trees.
Victor cursed.
“They’re here,” Aiden whispered.
“Who called them?” Nathan asked, stunned.
Aiden lowered his voice like he was confessing something shameful.
“I did,” he said. “Back at the gas station, when you were talking to the mechanic. I grabbed one of the guy’s phones when he wasn’t looking and dialed 911. I… I didn’t know if it would help, but…”
Nathan looked at him like he was seeing a miracle in front of him.
Within minutes, police cars blocked the road. Officers poured out, guns drawn. Victor and his men tried to run but didn’t get far. Shouts, warnings, handcuffs—chaos unfolded on the opposite bank, partly hidden in the thinning fog.