Chapter 8: The Man Who Turned Himself In
Daniel Voss was sitting in an interview room when we arrived at the federal building.
He wore the same navy suit he'd worn in court, but his tie was gone, and his right sleeve was stained with something dark.
Blood, perhaps.
He sat with his hands folded on the table, watching the clock.
When I entered, he smiled.
“Mr. Dawson. You're looking well.””
I pulled out the chair opposite him.
“Where's Ellie?””
Voss tilted his head.
“Is that how you greet everyone who might help you?””
I slammed my palms onto the table.
“Where is she?””
Carter stepped between us.
“Ray, sit down.””
I didn't move.
Voss examined my scars, then glanced at the red heart I'd failed to wash off completely.
“Still wearing the child's artwork, I see.””
I leaned closer.
“You put her in that van.””
“No.””
“You arranged the kidnapping.””
“No.””
“You were at the hospital when she disappeared.””
His smile widened.
“Apparently, according to a nurse who seems to have trouble remembering things.””
Carter sat beside me.
“Mr. Voss, we have evidence placing you at the hospital shortly before Ellie was removed from the room.””
“Then you should arrest me.””
“We intend to establish exactly what happened.””
“Wonderful. I'd hate for anyone to accuse me of a crime without evidence.””
I recognized the game he was playing.
Voss wasn't trying to prove his innocence.
He was trying to make us angry enough to make a mistake.
Carter opened a folder.
“Your vehicle was recorded near the hospital at 10:42 this morning.””
“My car is a popular model.””
“Your phone was also detected near the east entrance.””
“My phone goes where I go.””
“Yet you claim you weren't there.””
Voss shrugged.
“I said I didn't take the child.””
I stared at him.
“Who did?””
He looked directly at me.
“Ask your dead friend.””
Samantha.
I felt my hands tighten beneath the table.
Carter noticed and quietly placed a hand over my wrist.
“Explain what you mean,” she said.
Voss leaned back.
“Samantha Reed was a very complicated woman. She had a talent for making people believe whatever suited her needs.””
“Is she alive?”” Carter asked.
He smiled.
“Was she ever?””
Carter closed the folder.
“You're making this more difficult for yourself.””
“No, Agent Carter. I'm making it more difficult for you.””
He stood.
“I want my lawyer.””
Carter ordered him back into his chair.
“You don't get to dictate the interview.””
“Actually, I do. That's how constitutional rights work.””
He sat again, looking pleased with himself.
I studied the stain on his sleeve.
“Whose blood is that?””
Voss glanced down.
“Mine.””
“Where did you get hurt?””
“Car accident.””
“When?””
“This morning.””
“Where?””
He looked at Carter.
“Am I required to answer questions about an unrelated traffic incident?””
“Not without your attorney present,” she replied.
Voss smiled at me.
“You see? Some of us understand how the law works.””
I stood.
“Then let me ask you something that has nothing to do with the law.””
Carter started to object, but I continued.
“When you were standing beside the van, did you hear Ellie screaming for her daddy?””
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“You weren't there,” he said.
“I was.””
“You arrived afterward.””
“I heard her before I broke the window.””
Voss's fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
I leaned forward.
“She was asking for her daddy. Not her mother. Not you. Her daddy.””
His jaw flexed.
“Children say all kinds of things when they're frightened.””
“Then why did you look so angry when she said it?””
Voss shot to his feet.
“Because you're a liar!””
The door opened, and two officers stepped inside.
Carter remained seated.
“Mr. Voss, sit down.””
He stared at her.
Then, slowly, he obeyed.
For the first time, the smile had disappeared.
Carter leaned forward.
“Where is Ellie?””
Voss looked at me.
“If you find her, don't let her tell you what happened the night she was born.””
My blood ran cold.
“What happened?””
He shook his head.
“Ask Claire.””
“Where is Claire?””
His eyes flicked toward the one-way mirror.
For a moment, I thought he was looking at someone behind it.
Then he whispered, “You still don't understand. Claire isn't the one you're supposed to be afraid of.””
Carter stood.
“Who are you referring to?””
Voss closed his mouth.
He wouldn't say another word.
Outside the interview room, Carter called the team searching for Claire. Nobody had seen her since she left the courthouse the previous afternoon.
Her phone had been switched off.
Her bank accounts were frozen.
And the house she shared with Michael had been found empty.
I stood beside the window, watching agents move through the building.
“Voss knows where Ellie is,” I said.
“I believe he knows more than he's telling us.””
“Then make him talk.””
“We can't force a confession.””
“Then give him a reason to believe telling the truth is his only chance.””
Carter looked at me.
“That's what I'm trying to do.””
Her phone rang.
She answered, listened, and immediately reached for her coat.
“What happened?”” I asked.
“An anonymous caller reported a vehicle matching Claire's description outside a storage facility in Decatur.””
“Rebecca Shaw's storage facility?””
“Yes.””
We were moving before she finished the sentence.
The facility sat behind a row of shuttered businesses, surrounded by a rusted fence and overgrown weeds. Agents had already blocked the entrance when we arrived.
A red sedan stood beside unit 114.
Its rear window was shattered.
The driver's door hung open.
Carter approached cautiously while I remained behind the agents. A technician photographed the vehicle, then called her over.
“Agent Carter, you need to see this.””
Inside the trunk lay a child's pink backpack, a pair of small white sneakers, and a hospital identification bracelet.
The name printed on it was Ellie Thompson.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“She's been here,” I said.
Carter examined the trunk.
“Recently.””
A second agent approached with a tablet.
“We found a security camera facing the vehicle. The footage shows a woman entering the storage unit at 11:03 a.m.””
“Can you identify her?””
The agent turned the screen toward us.
A woman stepped into view, wearing a pale coat and walking with a cane.
Rebecca Shaw.
She unlocked the unit, looked over her shoulder, and disappeared inside.
Three minutes later, she emerged alone.
Carter called for a search warrant.
But before the agents could cut the lock, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
For a moment, there was only static.
Then a little girl's voice whispered, “Mr. Ray?””
“Ellie!””
“Don't come here.””
“Where are you?””
“I can't tell you.””
“Are you hurt?””
“No.””
Her voice broke.
“But Mommy says if you find me, she'll make sure Daddy never comes home.””
I pressed the phone against my ear.
“Ellie, listen to me. You're not in trouble. Nobody's going to punish you for telling the truth.””
“I know.””
“Then tell me where you are.””
A door slammed somewhere on her end of the call.
Ellie gasped.
A woman spoke in the background.
“Give me the phone, sweetheart.””
Then the line went dead.
Carter was already calling the technical team to trace the signal.
“Did you recognize the voice?”” she asked.
I shook my head.
“No.””
She stared at the screen as the tracing software processed the call.
Then a location appeared.
Not the storage facility.
Not a hospital.
A private residence in the northern suburbs of Atlanta.
The registered owner was a woman named Rebecca Shaw.
Carter looked up.
“We've got an address.””
I reached for my helmet.
She blocked the door.
“Ray, you're not going alone.””
“Then don't waste time.””
As the agents mobilized, another message appeared on my phone.
*You have one hour to bring Michael Thompson's missing file to Rebecca Shaw's house. Come alone, or Ellie dies.*
I showed Carter.
She read it twice.
Then she looked toward the interview room where Daniel Voss was being held.
“Someone wants that file badly enough to risk a kidnapping.””
I put on my helmet.
“Then let's find out what's inside it.””
May you like
Carter's expression hardened.
“And let's make sure the person waiting at that house doesn't get what they want.””
