Chapter 9
The safe apartment became a crime scene.
Agents took Emma’s hidden phone.
Teresa moved us to another room while technicians examined it.
I sat with Emma on my lap.
She kept asking one question.
“Is Daddy coming?”
I answered the only way I could.
“Police are making sure he can’t.”
She stared at the door.
“He knows the secret phone.”
“I know.”
“He told me not to tell you.”
“You did the right thing telling me.”
“But I didn’t tell you.”
“You showed me when you got scared. That counts.”
She leaned into me.
“Daddy says you’re trying to steal me.”
My stomach clenched.
“When did he say that?”
“In the messages yesterday.”
“You read messages before today?”
She nodded.
My heart sank.
“What did he say?”
“That you don’t want me to see him.”
I chose my words carefully.
“Right now, I don’t want you to see Daddy because I need to know you’re safe.”
“He said that means you hate him.”
“I don’t want to talk about hate.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you safe enough to be five.”
Emma frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you should worry about cartoons and crayons. Not adults’ secrets.”
For the first time that day, she almost smiled.
Agents returned thirty minutes later.
The hidden phone had location-sharing software installed.
Michael had been tracking it.
My stomach dropped.
“Does that mean he knows this apartment?”
Agent Bell shook his head.
“The device’s location services were blocked inside the building.”
“But before we came here?”
“Yes.”
“He knew where the interview center was.”
“Likely.”
“And Lauren’s house.”
“Yes.”
I covered my face.
Every place I tried to protect Emma, Michael had followed because he had planted something on her.
“You need to move us.”
“We are.”
“Again?”
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“This is insane.”
Bell looked at me.
“Rachel, the phone also contained scheduled messages.”
“What does that mean?”
“Michael prepared messages in advance.”
My skin prickled.
“What kind?”
“Instructions for Emma.”
“She’s five.”
“I know.”
“What instructions?”
Bell hesitated.
“He told her that if police took him away, she should tell people Grandma caused all of her injuries.”
My eyes filled with rage.
“He wanted his own daughter to lie for him.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“He told her there was a game they might play called ‘going away.’”
My heart pounded.
“What does that mean?”
“He said if he ever texted a blue heart emoji, she should leave wherever she was and look for him outside.”
I felt sick.
“What?”
“He framed it as a secret game.”
“Oh my God.”
Emma looked over.
I forced my expression to soften.
Bell lowered his voice.
“Did he ever play similar games with her?”
I thought.
Then remembered something.
Three months earlier, we were at a grocery store.
Emma disappeared for nearly four minutes.
I was hysterical.
Then Michael appeared with her near the parking lot.
He laughed.
Said Emma had followed him accidentally.
I yelled at him.
He accused me of overreacting.
“Once.”
Bell listened as I explained.
His expression hardened.
“That may have been practice.”
The thought nearly destroyed me.
He had trained her.
Not all at once.
Not obviously.
One secret.
One game.
One lie.
Until obeying him felt normal.
“When does this end?” I whispered.
Bell didn’t answer.
Because we both knew.
When Michael was caught.
Or when something worse happened.
The second safe location was farther away.
A motel-like building controlled by state authorities.
Emma slept most of the drive.
I watched trees pass outside.
My entire life fit into one borrowed duffel bag.
At some point Bell’s car pulled alongside ours, then fell behind again.
Security everywhere.
Still I felt exposed.
Around sunset, we arrived.
No windows faced the parking lot.
Two officers remained outside.
I finally breathed.
Then my temporary phone rang.
Ethan.
“Hey.”
“Rachel, I remembered something.”
My pulse jumped.
“What?”
“When Michael took my truck, he asked me how much gas was in it.”
“Okay.”
“I said half a tank. He got angry.”
“Why?”
“He asked whether I still kept emergency fuel at Dad’s old workshop.”
I sat up.
Our father had died three years earlier.
The workshop was an abandoned property two counties west.
Nobody used it.
“Why would he go there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you tell police?”
“I just did.”
“Could he hide there?”
“Yes.”
My heart pounded.
“Does it have another vehicle?”
Ethan went quiet.
“What?”
“Dad’s old pickup.”
“Does it run?”
“I restored it last summer.”
I closed my eyes.
“So Michael could switch vehicles again.”
“Yeah.”
“Anything else there?”
“Tools. Camping supplies.”
“Weapons?”
A pause.
“One shotgun.”
My stomach dropped.
“Ethan.”
“I know.”
“Why is there a shotgun in an empty workshop?”
“It belonged to Dad. It’s locked.”
“Michael breaks locks.”
“I told police.”
I hung up and immediately found Bell.
He already knew.
A tactical team was heading toward the workshop.
My entire body became tense.
Maybe this was it.
Maybe they would finally catch him.
Thirty minutes passed.
Then forty-five.
Then an hour.
Emma watched a movie with Teresa.
I stood in the hall.
Bell took a call.
I watched his face.
“What?”
He ended it.
“He was there.”
“Was?”
“He left before officers arrived.”
My stomach sank.
“How long ago?”
“Maybe forty minutes.”
“Did he take the pickup?”
“Yes.”
“Shotgun?”
“Still locked up.”
One tiny mercy.
“Did he leave anything?”
Bell’s jaw tightened.
“A note.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
He showed me a photograph.
My husband’s handwriting.
Rachel,
You want the truth? Fine.
Come to where we started.
Come alone.
Bring the key.
I stared.
“Where we started?”
Bell asked, “Do you know what that means?”
I did.
Michael and I met at a lakeside restaurant called The Dock House.
Our first date ended on a public pier behind it.
Years later he proposed there.
“The pier.”
“Location?”
I told him.
Bell immediately began coordinating.
“He thinks I still have the safe-deposit key.”
“Yes.”
“But police have it.”
“He may not know that.”
“What does he want with it if the box is already open?”
Bell looked at me.
“Maybe he believes there’s another box.”
I froze.
“What?”
“The key tag said 317.”
“Yes.”
“Robert’s journal references another number.”
My pulse jumped.
“What number?”
Bell looked at his phone.
“319.”
“Another safe-deposit box?”
“Possibly.”
“Whose?”
“We don’t know.”
“Does Robert?”
“He says no.”
I stared at him.
“What if Michael thinks the same key opens both?”
“It won’t.”
“Then why lure me to the pier?”
Bell’s expression darkened.
“Maybe the key isn’t the real reason.”
Emma.
Of course.
The only thing Michael wanted more than evidence was control.
“You’re not letting me go.”
“No.”
“What if it’s the only way to draw him out?”
“No.”
“I can wear a wire.”
“This isn’t television.”
“He wants me.”
“He wants leverage over you.”
I clenched my jaw.
“And while we keep running, he keeps finding us.”
“We are not using you as bait.”
I almost argued.
Then Emma came into the hall holding the brown stuffed bear.
“Mommy?”
I looked at her.
The argument died.
Bell was right.
I wasn’t just responsible for myself.
I knelt.
“What is it?”
She held out the bear.
“I found something.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Emma pointed to a small seam in the back.
It had been cut.
Then loosely stitched.
This was the bear Lauren bought at the hospital gift shop.
Or so I thought.
“Where did you get this bear?”
“Miss Lauren gave it to me.”
I called Lauren.
She answered immediately.
“The bear? I bought it in the hospital lobby.”
“Did it ever leave your bag?”
“A nurse held my bag when security checked me upstairs. Why?”
Bell took the bear.
He carefully opened the seam.
Inside was a tiny black device.
A tracker.
My blood ran cold.
Michael hadn’t put it there yesterday.
Someone at the hospital had.
Someone with access to Lauren’s bag.
Someone who knew we would take the bear.
Bell stared at the device.
Then his phone rang.
He listened.
His expression changed completely.
“What?” I whispered.
He ended the call.
“Sarah Miller just admitted she planted it.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“She says Michael forced her.”
“How?”
“He threatened to expose her unauthorized database searches and end her career.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So she helped track a five-year-old child.”
“Yes.”
“Did she know where this location was?”
“No. The tracker stopped transmitting when we discovered it.”
I looked toward Emma.
Every adult around her had used her.
Diane used pain to control her.
Michael used fear.
Sarah used her to protect a career.
Enough.
“What did Sarah say about the pier?”
Bell looked surprised.
“How do you know she knows?”
“Because Michael doesn’t plan alone. He makes people part of his mess.”
Bell nodded.
“She says he talked about the pier several times.”
“Why?”
“He called it the place where he made the worst decision of his life.”
My heart pounded.
“Marrying me?”
“I asked.”
“And?”
“Sarah says no.”
I swallowed.
“Then what?”
Bell answered quietly.
“According to Sarah, Michael met his father there three months ago.”
My entire body froze.
“Robert?”
“Yes.”
“Robert came back?”
“Apparently.”
“Why didn’t Robert tell police?”
“He just did.”
Rage flashed through me.
“What happened?”
“Robert contacted Michael anonymously. Asked to meet.”
“At our pier.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to warn him.”
“About Diane?”
Bell nodded.
“What warning?”
“Robert had learned you had a daughter.”
I stopped breathing.
“Emma?”
“Yes.”
“He was afraid Diane would do to Emma what she had done to Michael.”
My knees weakened.
“He tried to warn him?”
“Yes.”
“And Michael?”
Bell’s eyes were grim.
“Michael told him to stay away from his family.”
I closed my eyes.
Robert had tried.
Three months ago.
Michael knew.
Not just about Diane’s history.
About the danger she posed to Emma.
And he still sent Emma to her house.
“Did they fight?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Robert says Michael threatened to kill him if he contacted you.”
I looked toward Emma.
Everything inside me became very still.
No more confusion.
No more hope for explanations.
Michael had been warned.
He made his choice.
Then Bell’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
His face hardened.
“What?”
“Traffic camera just picked up Ethan’s old pickup.”
“Where?”
“Heading toward the lake.”
My heart stopped.
“The pier.”
Bell was already moving.
Officers followed.
I grabbed his arm.
“If you find him—”
“We’ll handle it.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Tell him something.”
“What?”
I swallowed.
“Tell him Emma told the truth.”
Bell stared at me for a moment.
Then nodded.
Ten minutes later they were gone.
I stayed behind with Emma and two armed officers.
The longest hour of my life began.
At 11:03 p.m., Bell called.
“We found the truck.”
“Michael?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
My heart sank.
“The truck was parked near the pier.”
“Was there anything inside?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Bell paused.
“A bloodstained jacket.”
I stopped breathing.
“Whose blood?”
“We don’t know.”
Then another officer shouted something in the background.
Bell went silent.
“What happened?”
No answer.
“Agent Bell?”
Finally his voice returned.
“We found someone in the water.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Michael?”
May you like
“We don’t know yet.”
Then the call ended.
