Chapter 3 - The Secret Poison In The Champagne Silk Shroud
Marcus didn't wait for Eleanor's hired thugs to act; he wrapped his arms under Clara's limp body and lifted her out of the coffin.
A strange, chemical odor—resembling sweet bitter almonds mixed with industrial solvent—wafted up from the plush champagne silk lining of the casket.
"Don't touch that shroud fabric!" Marcus shouted at the funeral director, who was now babbling into the emergency operator's line.
Eleanor’s face drained of all remaining color as Marcus ripped the tailored silk cloth away from Clara’s pale, trembling body.
"Stop him! Do not let him leave this building with her!" Eleanor ordered, her cold voice dropping into a razor-sharp, lethal command.
The two bodyguards surged forward, but Marcus kicked a heavy brass floral stand directly into their path, sending heavy arrangements crashing down.
He lunged through the mahogany double doors, carrying Clara out into the freezing autumn rain pouring over downtown Philadelphia's cobblestone streets.
He threw open the back door of his Ford Explorer SUV, gently laying Clara across the leather seats before slamming and locking the doors.
Behind him, Eleanor stood under the funeral parlor’s portico, her dark umbrella framing her face like a terrifying shadow in the rain.
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"You won't make it three miles down Market Street, Marcus!" Eleanor yelled through the storm. "You have no idea what she carries in her blood!"
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