Chapter 4
I didn't sleep that night.
Police found Madison four hours later at a shopping center six miles from her house.
She wasn't hurt.
But she was terrified.
She claimed she'd gone there on her own.
Nobody believed her.
Especially not after security footage showed a dark sedan dropping her near the parking garage.
The license plate was covered.
Marcus Vale didn't report for work the next morning.
By sunrise, the story about the bucket was no longer just school gossip.
Someone had leaked Madison's disappearance.
Reporters gathered outside our gates.
Dad refused every interview.
I sat at the kitchen island staring at cereal I couldn't eat.
“I'm going to school.”
Dad lowered his coffee.
“No.”
“You said I didn't have to hide.”
“That was before an employee connected to Richard Blake photographed you and Madison vanished.”
“She came back.”
“That doesn't make it better.”
I hated that he made sense.
“I have a chemistry test.”
Dad stared at me.
I stared back.
Finally he said, “Emily, there are armed security officers outside our house.”
“I noticed.”
“This isn't normal school drama anymore.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
His voice sharpened.
I flinched.
Dad immediately softened.
“I'm sorry.”
I pushed the cereal away.
“I just don't want whoever is doing this to control my life.”
Dad sat beside me.
“Being careful isn't surrender.”
Mom used to say that.
I could hear her voice when he said it.
I looked away.
“What exactly are police saying?”
“Very little.”
“That's not an answer.”
He sighed.
“Marcus Vale has disappeared. Richard claims he never ordered Marcus to follow you. Police are checking his financial records.”
“Do they think he kidnapped Madison?”
“They haven't used that word.”
“But?”
“But they believe someone frightened her badly enough that she refuses to tell the truth.”
My phone buzzed.
Ryan.
YOU NEED TO SEE THIS.
A link followed.
I opened it.
A new anonymous social media account had posted another video.
This one showed Madison sitting in a dark room.
My blood ran cold.
She looked directly into the camera.
“Emily Carter ruined my life.”
I froze.
Dad grabbed the phone.
The video continued.
“My father lost millions because of her. My school suspended me because of her. Everyone hates me because her family is powerful.”
Madison's eyes looked swollen.
But something was wrong.
Her voice sounded robotic.
Like she was reading.
Then she said, “People like Emily pretend to be victims so they can destroy normal families.”
The video ended.
Dad replayed it.
“Look at her eyes,” I whispered.
“I see it.”
“She keeps looking left.”
“Someone is holding something there.”
“A script?”
“Probably.”
My phone rang.
Madison.
Dad and I looked at each other.
Her phone had supposedly been left at home.
I answered.
“Madison?”
For two seconds, nothing.
Then breathing.
“Emily?”
Her voice was barely audible.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Are you alone?”
I looked at Dad.
“No.”
She started crying.
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“All of it.”
“Madison, tell me what's happening.”
“I didn't know.”
“Didn't know what?”
“That he was following you.”
Dad moved closer.
“Who?”
Madison inhaled shakily.
“Marcus.”
I put the phone on speaker.
“Why was he following me?”
“I don't know.”
“Madison.”
“I swear.”
Her voice cracked.
“I didn't know until yesterday.”
“Then why did you write Emily knows on your mirror?”
Silence.
“Madison?”
“I didn't write that.”
Dad and I stared at each other.
“What?”
“I didn't write anything.”
The line suddenly filled with static.
Then a man's voice spoke.
Very quietly.
“Enough.”
Madison screamed.
The call ended.
I stood so quickly that the stool fell backward.
Dad was already calling the police.
They arrived within minutes.
So did Richard Blake.
I'd never seen him before except in photographs.
He was tall, silver-haired, expensive-looking.
But that morning he looked twenty years older.
“Where is my daughter?”
Dad met him at the door.
“She called Emily.”
Richard pushed past him.
“What did she say?”
I told him everything.
When I repeated the man's voice, Richard gripped the edge of the kitchen counter.
“Marcus.”
“You recognize it?” I asked.
“I worked beside that man for seven years.”
He turned toward Dad.
“I trusted him with my family.”
Dad's face was cold.
“Why would your security director follow my daughter?”
“I don't know.”
“That's becoming an expensive phrase.”
Richard exploded.
“You think I wanted this?”
“I think there's something you're not telling me.”
Richard looked at me.
Then back at Dad.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Finally Richard said, “Your company didn't walk away from the Preston District project last year.”
Dad's expression changed.
“What does that have to do with this?”
“Everything.”
Dad glanced at me.
“Emily, go upstairs.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“If someone is threatening me because of your business, I'm not leaving.”
Richard gave a bitter laugh.
“She really is your daughter.”
Dad didn't smile.
“Talk.”
Richard lowered himself into a chair.
“Eight months ago, Marcus came to me with documents.”
“What documents?”
“Internal zoning reports. Environmental studies. Inspection records.”
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“For Preston?”
“Yes.”
Preston District was one of Dad's biggest abandoned developments.
He'd planned luxury apartments and retail space on hundreds of acres outside Dallas.
Then suddenly canceled everything.
I had never known why.
Richard continued.
“Marcus said the reports proved Carter Development pulled out because someone discovered contaminated groundwater.”
“That isn't confidential,” Dad said. “The contamination was disclosed publicly.”
“Not the second report.”
Dad went still.
“What second report?”
Richard stared at him.
“The one claiming the contamination was intentionally concealed for years.”
Dad looked genuinely confused.
“There was no second report.”
“Marcus had one.”
“Forged.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“He told me your company was terrified it would become public.”
Dad's voice was dangerously quiet.
“And you believed him?”
“I believed enough to look into buying nearby parcels cheaply.”
Dad stared at him.
“You tried to profit from a forged environmental scandal.”
“I didn't know it was forged.”
“You didn't care.”
Richard stood.
“My daughter is missing. Judge me later.”
The room went silent.
Then Richard looked directly at me.
“Two weeks ago Marcus mentioned you.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
Dad took one step forward.
“What exactly did he say?”
“He asked whether Emily would be attending the same school as Madison.”
“Why?”
“He claimed he was worried reporters might target both families if the Preston story resurfaced.”
“And you told him?”
Richard looked ashamed.
“I said yes.”
Dad turned away.
For the first time, I saw fear in his face.
Real fear.
I whispered, “So Marcus knew where I would be.”
“Yes,” Richard said.
A detective entered from the hallway.
“Mr. Blake?”
Richard stood.
“We traced the call.”
“Where?”
“Your daughter's phone connected through a tower near Preston District.”
Dad's head snapped toward him.
The detective continued.
“We've also located Marcus Vale's vehicle.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where?”
The detective hesitated.
“At the abandoned Carter Development sales office.”
Dad grabbed his keys.
The detective raised a hand.
“You're not going anywhere.”
“My daughter was threatened.”
“And Mr. Blake's daughter may be held there. Police are already moving in.”
Richard looked like he might ignore him.
Then my phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn't a message.
It was a live video link.
No sender name.
I tapped it before anyone could stop me.
Madison appeared on screen.
She was tied to a chair.
Behind her was a faded Carter Development logo.
And standing beside her was Marcus Vale.
He looked straight into the camera.
“Jonathan,” he said calmly, “bring Emily to Preston.”
Dad snatched the phone.
Marcus smiled.
“You have one hour.”
Then he leaned toward Madison and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“If you call the police, Richard gets his daughter back in pieces.”
Madison sobbed.
I couldn't breathe.
Marcus looked into the camera again.
“And Emily?”
May you like
His smile widened.
“Ask your father what happened to your mother.”
