Chapter 5 - THE MAN SOPHIE TRUSTED
I left Daniel on the cellar floor and ran.
Rachel was behind me.
Vanessa stood near the open mudroom door, barefoot, her face white.
“She got away from me.”
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were supposed to stay with her!”
“She screamed and—”
Rachel shoved past her.
We ran outside.
Malibu at night usually felt quiet.
That night it felt enormous.
Dark ocean.
Wind through palms.
Empty street.
“Sophie!” I shouted.
No answer.
Rachel ran toward the front driveway.
I checked the side yard.
Then headlights appeared beyond the gate.
A red car.
Daniel’s Aston Martin.
My blood went cold.
It rolled to a stop.
A man stepped out.
Not Daniel.
My chief financial officer.
Mark Lowell.
Sophie came out from behind a hedge.
“Uncle Mark!”
I shouted, “Sophie, stop!”
She froze.
Mark smiled.
“Hey, kiddo.”
He opened his arms.
Sophie knew him.
Trusted him.
He had brought her birthday gifts for years.
Rachel screamed, “Don’t go near him!”
Mark’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
His hand moved inside his jacket.
I ran.
Sophie backed away.
Mark grabbed her.
She screamed.
I hit him before he could pull anything out.
We went down on the driveway.
Sophie rolled free.
Rachel snatched her up.
Mark punched me across the jaw.
I saw white.
Then he reached for the object inside his jacket.
A syringe.
Not a gun.
Vanessa came running from behind us.
She kicked the syringe out of his hand.
Mark stared at her.
“You idiot.”
Vanessa backed away.
“What was in that?”
Mark lunged.
Rachel grabbed Sophie and ran toward the house.
I tackled Mark around the waist.
He drove me into the hood of the car.
“You have no idea what you’ve ruined,” he hissed.
I hit him again.
“Start explaining.”
He laughed.
Then police sirens sounded in the distance.
Sophie had triggered the silent panic alarm too.
Good girl.
Mark heard it.
His smile vanished.
He tried to run.
Vanessa stuck out her foot.
He went down hard.
I looked at her.
She looked shocked at herself.
“Don’t thank me.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
Deputies arrived within minutes.
So did paramedics.
Daniel was found trying to exit through the rear service road.
He was arrested carrying a second gun.
Mark was handcuffed beside his car.
Vanessa gave the police her father’s location.
They found him alive in a parking garage twenty miles away.
For the first time all night, I thought maybe the worst part was over.
Then one of the deputies walked toward me.
“Mr. Cole?”
“Yes?”
“We searched Mercer’s vehicle.”
“And?”
He glanced toward Sophie.
“Maybe we should speak privately.”
Rachel took Sophie inside with a female deputy.
I followed the officer toward the patrol car.
He held up an evidence bag.
Inside was a passport.
Sophie’s passport.
And two airline tickets.
One for Daniel Mercer.
One for Sophie Cole.
Departure time:
6:10 a.m.
Destination:
Mexico City.
I stared at the tickets.
“He was going to take my daughter?”
The deputy said, “It appears that way.”
Vanessa overheard.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“No.”
I turned on her.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You helped him get into my house.”
“I didn’t know this.”
“You want me to believe that?”
“I thought he wanted your company!”
“You hurt my child for him!”
Her face folded.
“I know.”
“That doesn’t disappear because you kicked a syringe away.”
“I know.”
For once, she didn’t defend herself.
Then Rachel came rushing back outside.
“Ethan.”
Something in her face frightened me.
“What?”
“She’s gone.”
My heart stopped.
“What are you talking about?”
“Sophie.”
Rachel held up an empty blanket.
“She was sitting right beside me.”
I ran inside.
The deputy followed.
The kitchen was empty.
The hallway.
Empty.
Front door locked.
Back door guarded.
Then the house phone rang.
One sharp ring.
Two.
Three.
I picked it up.
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice said,
May you like
“If you want your daughter back, stop asking questions about Rachel’s plane crash.”
The line went dead.
