Chapter 7
Detective Reed refused to let me go.
“I’m not asking.”
“You’re not meeting him.”
“He has Mr. Sanders.”
“He may already have killed him.”
I flinched.
Reed continued.
“And if you walk into whatever place Jason chooses, he may kill you too.”
“He wants the notebook.”
“He wants control.”
“No. He wants what’s inside.”
The red notebook sat inside an evidence bag at the police station.
Investigators had photographed every page.
Jason didn’t know that.
Reed did.
“We can use that,” I said.
“We will.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
I leaned across the table.
“He knows me. He knows how I react. If suddenly some stranger offers him the notebook, he’ll know it’s a trap.”
“He already knows it will be a trap.”
“Then let me be the trap.”
Reed stared at me.
I could see the argument in his face.
Police officer versus terrified mother.
Procedure versus opportunity.
Then Chloe spoke from the doorway.
“Mom can trick him.”
We both turned.
She was supposed to be with a child advocate.
“Chloe.”
“I know how Dad thinks.”
I hated hearing that sentence from my nine-year-old.
She walked toward us.
“When he thinks he’s winning, he talks.”
Reed looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“He likes telling people they’re stupid.”
I knew exactly what she meant.
Jason loved explaining why everyone else had been wrong.
Why my coworkers were foolish.
Why neighbors were incompetent.
Why I was too emotional to understand money.
If he believed he had won, he would talk.
Reed rubbed his face.
“This family is going to give me gray hair.”
“I’m serious,” I said.
“So am I.”
Miranda was being interrogated.
She had requested an attorney.
But before that attorney arrived, she said one useful thing.
Michael never leaves without the money.
That gave police an idea.
My father’s trust.
Jason couldn’t simply take it.
But he might believe I could transfer it.
Mr. Sanders had been trustee until certain conditions were met.
If Jason had him, that mattered.
“Where would he take Sanders?” I asked.
“We’re searching properties connected to Jason, Michael Trent, Miranda, Hollis Development and known aliases.”
“How many?”
“Too many.”
“Then we need to narrow it.”
Chloe looked at me.
“The lake house.”
I frowned.
“What lake house?”
“Dad took me there once.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“Last summer.”
“Jason told me you were at Emma’s birthday party.”
“He told me not to tell you.”
Of course.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did it look like?”
“Small. Brown. There was a dock.”
“That describes half the state.”
Chloe thought.
“There was a sign.”
“What sign?”
“Blue letters.”
“What did it say?”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Something Pine.”
Reed started searching property records.
Ten minutes later, an officer entered.
“Hollis Development owns a cabin through a subsidiary near Pine Hollow Reservoir.”
Reed stood.
“That’s it.”
Chloe nodded immediately.
“There was a reservoir!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Police mobilized.
I expected Reed to leave me behind.
Instead, he turned.
“If we use you, you do exactly what I say.”
“I will.”
“No improvising.”
“I understand.”
“If I tell you to leave, you leave.”
“Yes.”
He stared at me.
“You’re lying.”
“Yes.”
For the first time in two days, he almost smiled.
Then his face became serious again.
“Let’s go.”
We left Chloe with two officers and the child advocate.
She hugged me tightly.
“Bring Mr. Sanders back.”
“I’ll try.”
“And Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t believe Dad when he cries.”
That stopped me.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because he practices.”
My heart sank.
“Practices what?”
“Looking sad.”
I kissed her forehead.
Then I left.
The cabin sat beyond a narrow gravel road surrounded by trees.
Police staged almost a mile away.
Drones confirmed one vehicle.
Jason’s hidden second car.
Thermal imaging suggested two people inside.
Maybe three.
Reed fitted me with a microphone.
I carried a duplicate notebook.
The real one stayed with police.
My phone rang.
Jason.
For the first time since he ran, his number appeared normally.
I answered.
“Hello.”
“Emily.”
His voice was calm.
Like he was calling from the grocery store.
“Where is Mr. Sanders?”
“Alive.”
“Let me hear him.”
A pause.
Then Mr. Sanders spoke.
“Emily, don’t come.”
A hit.
He groaned.
I closed my eyes.
Jason returned.
“Bring the notebook.”
“You hurt him again, and I burn it.”
Jason laughed.
“There she is.”
“What?”
“The woman your father raised.”
“Where are you?”
“You already know.”
He was watching.
I looked toward the trees.
“Come alone.”
“I will.”
“No police.”
“Then show yourself.”
Silence.
Then the cabin door opened.
Jason stepped onto the porch.
My husband.
My children’s father.
The man I had slept beside for eleven years.
He wore jeans and a gray sweater.
His face looked almost normal.
That was the horror of it.
Monsters did not always look like monsters.
Sometimes they looked like the person who brought you coffee every morning.
I walked toward him.
“Where’s Sanders?”
“Inside.”
“Show me.”
“Notebook first.”
I held it up.
“Mr. Sanders first.”
Jason smiled.
“You’ve changed.”
“No. I finally met you.”
His eyes hardened.
“You’ve always been dramatic.”
“You fractured your son’s skull.”
“He’s alive.”
The casual answer made me shake with rage.
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Do you?”
He stepped down from the porch.
“You destroyed our family.”
I almost laughed.
“I destroyed it?”
“You called the police.”
“You threw Noah.”
“One mistake.”
“You shook him before.”
His face changed.
“Chloe lies.”
“She recorded you.”
“She’s confused.”
“She recorded Miranda too.”
He glanced toward the trees.
Then back at me.
“Miranda is unstable.”
“Your sister?”
That hit him.
Only for half a second.
But I saw it.
“Rebecca told my mother everything.”
Jason’s expression went blank.
“So you found the tape.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because there were two tapes.”
My heart stopped.
Two?
He smiled.
“You didn’t know.”
I forced myself not to react.
“What’s on the second?”
“Give me the notebook.”
“Not until I see Sanders.”
He opened the cabin door.
Mr. Sanders sat tied to a chair.
Blood ran from his forehead.
But he was conscious.
“Emily!”
Jason shoved me inside.
The door closed.
Police were listening.
I kept reminding myself.
They were there.
Jason took the notebook.
He flipped through it.
His smile disappeared.
“This is a copy.”
My heart slammed.
“What?”
He grabbed my arm.
“This is a copy!”
I tried to pull away.
He dragged me toward the table.
“How did you know?”
“The binding.”
He looked toward my chest.
The microphone.
I saw understanding reach his face.
Then he ripped my jacket open.
The wire showed.
Jason smiled.
“Hello, Detective.”
He crushed the transmitter under his shoe.
Then he grabbed me around the neck.
Outside, police shouted.
Jason pulled a knife from his pocket.
“Back away!”
The front windows shattered as officers moved into position.
Mr. Sanders screamed, “Emily!”
Jason dragged me toward the back door.
“You never could follow directions.”
“You’re surrounded.”
“I’ve been surrounded before.”
He shoved the back door open.
A boat waited at the dock.
Of course.
A second escape.
He forced me onto it.
The engine roared.
Shots were not fired.
They couldn’t risk hitting me.
We sped across the water.
Jason kept the knife pressed against my side.
“You should have stayed quiet.”
“You should have stayed dead, Michael.”
He flinched.
I knew I had him.
“Rebecca knew what you were.”
“Rebecca was weak.”
“You killed her.”
“She made choices.”
“You killed your own baby.”
His face went dark.
“That fire wasn’t supposed to spread.”
There.
A confession.
Maybe nobody heard it.
But I did.
“You started it.”
He realized what he had said.
Then smiled again.
“What difference does it make now?”
The boat reached the opposite shore.
A black SUV waited.
Jason pulled me out.
Then headlights suddenly flashed from behind the trees.
Another vehicle blocked the road.
Jason froze.
A woman stepped out.
Miranda.
I stared.
She was supposed to be in custody.
Jason looked shocked too.
“Miranda?”
She raised a gun.
But she didn’t point it at me.
She pointed it at him.
“You were always terrible at cleaning up your messes, Michael.”
Jason stared at his sister.
“How did you get out?”
“I didn’t.”
She smiled coldly.
Then Detective Reed stepped from behind the SUV.
“Drop the knife, Michael.”
Jason’s face collapsed.
It had been a trap.
Miranda was still in custody.
The woman in front of us wasn’t Miranda.
She removed the dark wig.
Underneath was short blond hair.
Jason whispered one word.
“Lily.”
May you like
My heart stopped.
His surviving daughter had found us.
