Chapter 21: Beneath the Surface

 

Welcome to Chapter 21

When family becomes the enemy, loyalty shatters—and the truth sharpens its blade.

Gerald McLeod has had enough. In a stunning turn, he breaks ranks and reveals a chilling truth: Ian McLeod’s death wasn’t a mystery—it was a conspiracy. And the conspirators? His own family. From a staged cover story to a planted rifle, Gerald exposes the lies that have bound them together in silence.

But his confession doesn’t bring peace—it opens the floodgates. Now, the McLeod family stands fractured, Jerome is left exposed, and Peter and George are suddenly under new suspicion.

Detective Jean Lavallee knows the path ahead is dangerous. But with Gerald’s voice now cutting through the fog, the case finally has a heartbeat.

And tomorrow, it might just bleed.

Chapter 21

 

The Plans

 

Day 16:

 

Jerome McLeod sat stiffly in the interview room; his arms crossed over his chest like a shield. His public defender, a young and overeager lawyer, pleaded with him to cooperate, but Jerome responded with little more than shrugs and clipped answers. His fear was evident in his darting eyes, but he masked it with defiance.

 

Detective Jean Lavallee leaned back in his chair, observing Jerome carefully. The younger McLeod was like a cornered animal—scared, unpredictable, and desperate to protect himself.

 

After an hour of futile questioning, Lavallee left the room and joined Crown Prosecutor Sheila Summers in the observation area.

 

“He’s a brick wall,” Summers muttered, closing her notebook in frustration. “Do you think Gerald’s statement could shake him?”

 

“Not directly,” Lavallee replied. “Gerald’s immunity binds us from disclosing too much. But we can use his statement indirectly to unsettle the family. The goal is to get them off balance.”

 

“So, what’s the plan?” Summers asked.

 

Lavallee’s gaze hardened. “We bring this to their turf—the farmhouse. Get the family together, and the setting alone will start working on them. We push them, but carefully. If we’re lucky, someone will crack.”

 

Late Afternoon – Day 16:

 

At the Sûreté detachment in Harris Bay, Lavallee met with Sergeant Michael Gilbert and Constable Murray Mannion to outline the strategy.

 

Mannion provided an update. “The geologist’s report came back inconclusive. The rocks George McLeod submitted could’ve come from anywhere—no clear tie to the farm’s land.”

 

Lavallee frowned. “And Ian’s plans to sell the farm?”

 

Gilbert answered, “Corriveau, the real estate agent, confirmed it. Ian was serious about testing the waters. If his family thought selling meant losing out on potential gold, it could’ve created a powder keg.”

 

“That’s our leverage,” Lavallee said. “If they believed the farm was sitting on gold, Ian’s plans to sell could’ve been the spark. Let’s make them think we’ve uncovered more than we have. The farmhouse is where it all began—it’ll set the tone for confrontation.”

 

Mannion leaned forward. “What’s the bait? Gerald’s statement?”

 

Lavallee nodded. “We imply it without confirming. Let them wonder how much Gerald has told us. The tension between them will do half the work for us.”

 

At Doris McLeod’s Apartment

Early Evening, Day 16:

 

Doris, George, and Peter McLeod sat tensely in the living room, processing the summons to meet at the farmhouse.

 

“This feels like a trap,” George muttered, pacing anxiously.

 

Doris lit a cigarette, her expression sharp. “Pull yourself together, George. If we refuse, they’ll think we’re guilty. We go, and we stick to the story. Ian was planning to sell the farm, stirring up trouble. That’s it.”

 

Peter, perched on the edge of the couch, spoke hesitantly. “But what if Gerald told them something?”

 

Doris exhaled a plume of smoke, her patience fraying. “Then it doesn’t matter. Gerald doesn’t know who pulled the trigger, and Jerome’s too spineless to say anything. We stick together, and we stick to the plan.”

 

George’s pacing stopped. “And if they have more evidence?”

 

Doris fixed him with a glare. “We adapt. But until they show their cards, we don’t blink. 

 

She glanced at the clock. “I’ll call and confirm we’re coming. No lawyers—they make us look guilty.”

 

Farmhouse Meeting

Afternoon, Day 17:

 

The McLeods arrived at the farmhouse, their faces taut with tension. Lavallee, Summers, and Gilbert waited inside, the setting deliberately chosen to unsettle the family.

 

“Thank you for coming,” Lavallee began, his tone firm but polite. “We’ve uncovered some new information, and we wanted to discuss it with you all together.”

 

Doris’s expression was a mask of calm. “What kind of information?”

 

Lavallee locked eyes with her. “Gerald’s statement has been enlightening. Combined with physical evidence found here on the farm, we’re starting to get a clearer picture of what happened.”

 

George shifted uneasily, avoiding Lavallee’s gaze. Peter kept his head down, his hands clenched tightly in his lap.

 

Lavallee continued, “Ian was planning to sell the farm. That much we know. But there are also questions about the gold rumours—questions that seem to tie directly to his death.”

 

Doris spoke; her voice measured. “Ian mentioned selling the farm once or twice. He hadn’t made any decisions. It was his land to sell, after all.”

 

“And how did that make you feel?” Lavallee asked, his tone gentle but probing.

 

Doris met his gaze steadily. “It wasn’t my decision to make. Ian and I weren’t even living together at the time.”

 

The room crackled with tension as Lavallee pushed further, dropping subtle hints about Gerald’s cooperation. Doris remained composed, but George’s anxious fidgeting betrayed him. Peter’s silence, meanwhile, spoke volumes.

 

Sensing the strain, Lavallee called for a break. “Let’s take five minutes. Smokers, feel free to step outside. Coffee’s in the kitchen.”

 

Outside the Farmhouse:

 

Doris dragged George outside, lighting a cigarette, and handing him one. Her tone was sharp, her words clipped.

 

“You need to get it together,” she hissed. “One slip, and it’s over for all of us. Do you understand?”

 

George nodded shakily, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “I’m trying, Doris. But they’re onto something. I can feel it.”

 

Inside the Kitchen:

 

Peter shuffled into the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with the detectives. He busied himself making coffee, the clinking of cups and the hum of the percolator the only sounds in the room.

 

Lavallee stood near the window, watching Doris and George outside. Turning to Gilbert and Mannion, he spoke quietly. “They’re close to breaking. Doris is holding them together, but it’s fragile. We need to push just a little more.”

 

Gilbert nodded. “What’s the next move?”

 

Lavallee’s eyes narrowed. “We turn the heat up. Let’s remind them just how much we know—and see how long they can hold their story.”

 

The stage was set, the tension palpable. Lavallee knew they were edging closer to the truth, and he was determined to expose it.