Chapter 5 - THE DAUGHTER THEY PLANNED TO USE
Eva didn’t understand what she had heard.
Thank God.
I shut off the video.
“Clara, take her into the bathroom.”
“No.”
My wife looked at me.
“William—”
“Now.”
She took Eva.
The bathroom door closed.
I turned to Lily.
“How did you get that recording?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who?”
“Mom.”
“Our mother died six years ago.”
“That video was made three months ago.”
“Exactly.”
She watched my confusion.
“Mom left someone behind.”
I stared.
“Who?”
Before Lily could answer, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A text appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE OPENED THE DOOR.
Another followed.
BRING LILY HOME.
Then a photograph.
My stomach dropped.
It showed our motel.
Taken from across the road.
“They found us.”
I ran to the window.
A dark SUV idled beside the gas station.
“Bathroom window,” Lily said.
We moved fast.
Clara lifted Eva through the small window first.
Lily followed.
I climbed out last.
Behind us, the motel-room door crashed open.
We ran through wet grass toward a strip of woods.
Eva struggled to keep up.
I carried her.
Headlights swept across the field.
“Dad!”
“I’ve got you.”
A vehicle roared over the curb.
Clara pulled us behind a drainage ditch.
The SUV stopped.
Doors opened.
Men shouted.
Lily pointed through the trees.
“There!”
An old service road.
We ran.
A pickup approached from the opposite direction.
I stepped into the road waving both arms.
The driver slammed the brakes.
An older woman rolled down the window.
“Are you insane?”
“My daughter’s in danger.”
She took one look at Eva.
“Get in.”
We piled into the truck.
“Drive.”
The woman didn’t ask twice.
The SUV appeared behind us.
“Who are those people?” she asked.
“My family.”
She glanced at me.
“Bad Thanksgiving?”
Despite everything, Lily laughed.
It was the first time I’d heard her laugh in eighteen years.
Then a bullet struck the pickup’s tailgate.
The woman shouted something I won’t repeat and floored it.
We reached a highway interchange.
The SUV missed the turn.
For the moment, we were safe.
The driver took us to a 24-hour diner.
Her name was Marlene.
She gave Eva hot chocolate and refused payment.
I called the one person I still trusted.
Detective Mara Quinn.
We had gone to high school together.
She had investigated financial crimes for the county for eight years.
When she arrived, she listened without interrupting.
Then I showed her the video.
Her expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“My mother apparently had someone recording them.”
Mara looked at Lily.
“You said you copied financial records eighteen years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Lily looked around the diner.
Then leaned forward.
“Inside our childhood house.”
I stared at her.
Dad still owned that house.
“What exactly did you hide?”
“A ledger.”
Mara asked, “Paper?”
Lily nodded.
“Names. Payments. Clinics. Judges. Cops.”
Mara went very still.
“How many cops?”
May you like
Lily looked toward the diner window.
“One of them is standing outside.”
