And now that Declan was back in town looking for the money, Marcus was tying up loose ends.
Marcus had broken into my safe.
Marcus had left the padlock on my table to make me think Declan was the threat.
Marcus had smashed Maya's house to force me into a panic.
And Marcus had manipulated a terrified old man into burning my diner to the ground, destroying the evidence and me along with it.
"Henderson, listen to me," I pleaded, lowering the skillet. "Marcus set you up. He wants you to burn this place down so the state police will blame you for the fire. He's using you."
Henderson hesitated, his hand shaking violently.
He looked down at the burning flare, then at the torn pages in his hand.
"He said you were the enemy," Henderson whispered.
Before I could respond, a deafening gunshot shattered the silence of the kitchen.
The glass window of the back door exploded inward.
Henderson gasped, his eyes going wide as a red stain bloomed across the chest of his rain slicker.
He collapsed forward, dropping the flare.
The flare hit the puddle of solvent.
In a fraction of a second, a wall of blue and orange fire erupted across the linoleum floor, instantly dividing the kitchen in half.
The heat was suffocating.
I dove backward through the swinging doors into the dining room as the flames roared toward the ceiling.
"Thomas!" Maya screamed, rushing out from behind the counter.
"Get back!" I yelled, scrambling to my feet.
The back door of the kitchen was kicked completely open.
Through the thick, black smoke and roaring flames, I saw a figure step into the doorway.
It was Marcus.
He was wearing his county sheriff's uniform, a suppressed 9mm pistol gripped loosely in his right hand.
He looked at Henderson's body burning on the floor, then raised his eyes and looked directly at me through the wall of fire.
His face was completely devoid of emotion.
"County dispatch just got a call about a disturbed patron setting fire to the Copper Creek Diner," Marcus called out, his voice unnaturally calm over the roar of the flames. "Tragic loss of life. Owner couldn't escape in time."
He raised the pistol and aimed it through the smoke.
I lunged to the left just as the glass of the pie display case behind me shattered into a thousand pieces.
I grabbed Maya by the waist and dragged her to the floor behind the heavy wooden booths.
"Crawl!" I ordered her, pushing her toward the front door. "Get out into the rain!"
But before we could reach the exit, the front doors burst open.
Declan Vance charged into the diner.
He had heard the gunshot.
He took one look at the flames consuming the kitchen and then saw me on the floor with Maya.
He reached into his jacket, pulling out a heavy steel tire iron.
"Hayes, what the hell is happening?" Declan roared over the fire.
"Get down!" I screamed at him.
Another suppressed shot hissed through the air, embedding itself into the wooden frame of the door mere inches from Declan's head.
Declan threw himself onto the floor, sliding behind the counter next to me.
"Who is shooting at us?" Declan demanded, his aggressive demeanor replaced by absolute confusion.
"It's Marcus," I said, coughing as the thick black smoke began to fill the dining room. "He framed your father. He stole the money. And he just murdered Henderson."
Declan's eyes widened in horror.
For twenty years, he had believed his father was a solitary monster, and that I was the man hiding his stolen fortune.
He realized in that instant that his entire life of anger had been orchestrated by the man currently trying to kill us.
The fire alarm on the ceiling finally detected the smoke, emitting a piercing, ear-splitting shriek.
The sprinkler system groaned, but nothing came out.
Marcus had shut off the main water valve.
We were trapped.
The flames were spreading rapidly from the kitchen, catching the grease traps and the wooden framing of the walls.
Marcus began walking slowly through the dining room, his boots crunching on the broken glass.
"It didn't have to be this messy, Thomas," Marcus called out, his voice echoing eerily. "If you had just kept the basement sealed, we could have grown old in peace."
I looked at Maya. She was crying silently, clutching her knees.
I looked at Declan.
The man who had threatened to burn my diner down yesterday was now trapped in the fire with me.
My knee throbbed. My lungs burned.
I touched the cold metal of the Silver Star pinned to my jacket.
I had survived the valley because I refused to let my men die alone in the dark.
I wasn't going to let this corrupt coward murder a girl and an innocent man in my diner.
I grabbed the heavy cast-iron skillet from the floor.
I looked at Declan and pointed toward the front door.