Page 40 of When You're Safe

But just whenFinn thought he had him, Ross took a terrifying leap of desperation. Hescrambled onto the bridge’s railing, teetering precariously, the dark waters ofthe Thames looming below.

“No, Alan!”Winters yelled, stopping and reaching out with her hand, her face contorted withfear.

The crowds hadstopped, forming a wide circle around them. Whispers spread, phones were raised,recording the unfolding drama. The wind rustled Ross’s hair, his clothesflapping wildly. His face was a mask of terror, but there was something elsetoo—a deep-rooted pain, one that seemed to have festered for far too long.

Finn, hisvoice low and measured, said, “Alan, look at me. It’s not worth it. We cantalk. We can help you. But you need to step back. Please.”

Alan Ross’sface twisted with emotion, tears streaming down his face. “I’ve lost everything.The museum was my life’s work, my legacy. And now it’s all going under.”

Finn, taking astep closer but being cautious not to startle Ross, asked, “Is that why youkilled Quentin and Maggie DeGrey? To get their inheritance for the museum?”

Ross looked atFinn, genuinely confused. “Killed? I never killed anyone! Why would I? Quentintold me weeks before his death that he changed his will.”

Wintersstepped forward, her brow furrowing. “Changed his will? Are you saying theinheritance wasn’t going to the museum?”

“No, it wasn’t,”Ross said, desperation tinging his voice. “Quentin had informed us. But henever told us who the new beneficiary was.”

Finn’s eyesmet Winters’s. This was a twist neither of them had expected. The very motivethey had ascribed to Ross was now in doubt.

“Alan,”Winters said gently, “your wife… she’s at home, devastated. She doesn’t need tolose you too. Think of her.”

Ross’s facecrumpled even further. “I can’t face her. Not with all of this.”

As the gravityof his words settled, a gust of wind blew past, causing Ross to wobble. In thatheartbeat of a moment, he made to turn toward them, but his footing betrayedhim. With a gasp, he lost his balance.

But Finn,fueled by adrenaline and sheer determination, lunged forward. His arms snakedaround Ross’s waist just as he started to plummet. Winters, reacting quickly, grabbedonto Finn’s arm, anchoring him as they both heaved with all their might.

With acollective groan of exertion, they pulled Ross over the railing and onto thebridge’s pavement. The three of them were sprawled in a tangled heap, pantingheavily.

The tension inthe air broke as the watching crowds burst into applause. Tears of gratitudeand relief welled up in Ross’s eyes. Even as the sounds of sirens began to growcloser, signifying the imminent arrival of more police officers, Finn andWinters knew one thing for sure: the mystery had just deepened, and their jobwas far from over. The killer was still out there.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The sprawlingestate of DeGrey Castle loomed ahead, its ancient stone walls standing stoicagainst the passage of time. As Finn’s unreliable rental car approached, thegrandeur of the castle, bathed in the light of the setting sun, stirred somethingdeep within him. Almost a reverence.

“How manysecrets have these walls witnessed over the centuries?” Finn mused, feeling theweight of history pressing on him.

Behind him, hecould see Winters in her car. Occasionally the glare of the evening sun woulddiminish from her windshield, revealing her face set in a determinedexpression. Though separated by vehicles, Finn knew they shared the samethoughts: they needed to speak with the DeGreys and uncover the new beneficiaryof Quentin DeGrey’s estate. Whoever it was could be the key to identifying thekiller… or his next victim.

However,before he could get any closer to the answers hidden within the castle, thefamiliar obstruction of the gatehouse appeared, a steadfast barrier betweenthem and their goal. With the drawbridge raised, Finn could hear the faintlapping of the moat’s murky waters below. Emerging from the gatehouse, twostern-faced security guards blocked their path.

“You again?”the taller of the guards asked, eyeing Finn suspiciously. “What’s your businesshere?”

“I need to speakwith the DeGreys. It’s crucial,” Finn responded, trying to keep his voicelevel.

The secondguard smirked. “You don’t need anything. Unless one of the family or Mr.Lincoln, the keeper of the grounds, tells us otherwise, you’re not getting in.”

Finn leanedslightly out of his car window, a smirk pulling at his own lips. “Come on,guys. Are we really going to do this dance again? You know, one way or another,I’m getting inside. Whether it’s with a warrant or not. Save us all some timeand lower that bridge.”

From her car,Winters honked in agreement, her voice calling out, “He’s with me and is a consultantwith the Home Office. And we’re not leaving until we’ve spoken to the DeGreys.”

The guardsexchanged a wary glance. After a brief whispered conversation and a reluctantnod, one guard mumbled into his walkie-talkie. The ensuing creak echoed throughthe silent evening as the drawbridge began its descent, the planks making aresounding thud as they met the ground.

“Just don’tcause any trouble,” the first guard warned, pointing a finger at Finn.

He chuckled. “Trouble?Me? Fellas, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

As he drove ontothe drawbridge, the metal rumbled beneath Finn’s tires. Passing into theembrace of the castle’s ancient walls, he felt the significance of themysteries that awaited them.

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