Chapter 13 - RYAN COMES HOME
Ryan didn’t go to Evan.
He went to Rachel.
We knew because her panic alarm activated at 8:07 p.m.
By 8:14, I was outside her house.
The front door was open.
Broken glass covered the hallway.
“Rachel!”
A muffled scream came from the basement.
I ran down.
Ryan had Rachel on the floor.
A gun pressed against her neck.
“Back up!”
I stopped.
“Put it down, Ryan.”
“You destroyed everything.”
“You abused a child.”
“He wasn’t supposed to find the key!”
Rachel screamed, “You locked my son in here!”
Ryan tightened his grip.
“He kept asking about Daniel!”
“You beat him because he missed his father?”
“Daniel ruined my life!”
“No. You did that yourself.”
His face twisted.
“Where’s the ledger?”
“Gone.”
“Bullshit.”
“Federal custody.”
His eyes changed.
He knew it was over.
Then footsteps sounded behind me.
Daniel.
I spun.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Ryan stared as if he had seen a ghost.
“No.”
Daniel stepped down one stair at a time.
“Hi, Ryan.”
Ryan’s gun moved toward him.
I raised mine.
“Don’t.”
Ryan laughed.
“You’re alive.”
“You always were slow.”
“Daniel,” I snapped, “stop moving.”
He ignored me.
Rachel stared at him, tears flooding her face.
“You came back.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Should’ve done it sooner.”
Ryan screamed, “SHUT UP!”
His gun shook.
Daniel stopped.
“You want me? Let her go.”
Ryan laughed.
“You think this is some movie?”
“No.”
Daniel slowly raised his hands.
“I think you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“You chased an eight-year-old into a police station.”
Ryan’s face reddened.
“He took what belonged to me!”
“No,” Daniel said. “He took what belonged to his father.”
Ryan fired.
I moved at the same instant.
The shot hit Daniel high in the shoulder.
I fired once.
Ryan dropped.
Rachel crawled away screaming.
Ramirez rushed downstairs.
“Gun! Secure!”
I dropped beside Daniel.
Blood spread across his shirt.
“Stay with me.”
He looked at me.
“Still bossy.”
“Shut up.”
He actually smiled.
Ryan groaned nearby.
Alive.
Handcuffed.
Finished.
Paramedics arrived.
As they carried Daniel upstairs, Rachel followed.
Then Evan appeared at the front door with a child-services officer.
He saw the stretcher.
“Dad?”
Daniel’s eyes opened.
Evan froze.
For eight years, the boy had carried scraps of memory.
A window.
A key.
A whispered promise.
Now the man from those memories was real.
Daniel reached out his good hand.
“Hey, buddy.”
Evan walked closer.
Then punched him in the arm.
Daniel winced.
“Ow.”
“You left me!”
Nobody spoke.
Evan hit him again.
Not hard.
Just angry.
“You left!”
Daniel started crying.
“I did.”
Evan’s face collapsed.
Then he climbed onto the edge of the stretcher and hugged him.
Daniel shut his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
For one minute, there were no cops.
No criminals.
No case.
Just a father trying to hold the son he had failed.
Then my phone rang.
Federal command.
May you like
Senator Cole had disappeared.
And his private jet was preparing to leave the country.
