Chapter 3 - THE EMPTY FLOWER-GIRL DRESS
I grabbed Amanda before she could move.
“Where is my daughter?”
Guests screamed as the fire alarm flashed overhead. Sprinklers hadn’t activated, which meant someone had pulled the alarm manually.
Amanda stared at me.
“If Darren has Sophie, chasing me won’t help.”
My mother slapped her.
The sound cut through the noise.
“You promised the child would never be touched.”
Amanda slowly turned toward her.
“You don’t get to act innocent now, Evelyn.”
My mother’s face collapsed.
I wanted answers, but Sophie came first.
Security locked the parking lot while Rachel and I searched the service hallways. Behind the kitchen, I found one of Sophie’s white shoes beside a freight elevator.
The elevator display showed B2.
We took the stairs.
The underground garage smelled like wet concrete and gasoline. A white catering van sat near the loading dock with its rear doors open.
Inside was Sophie’s flower-girl dress.
Not Sophie.
Just the dress, folded on the floor beside a child’s pink backpack.
Rachel covered her mouth.
I opened the backpack. Sophie’s stuffed rabbit was inside, along with an inhaler and a folded note.
Sign the agreement and transfer ten million dollars. You get your daughter back. Call the second phone. No police.
Amanda had followed us downstairs with a security guard.
When she saw the dress, the arrogance left her face.
“He wasn’t supposed to take her.”
“You helped him plan this.”
“Not this part.”
I called Darren from the second phone.
He answered on video.
The camera showed Sophie sitting in the back seat of a moving vehicle. She wore gray sweatpants and a yellow sweatshirt someone had put on her after removing the dress.
Her eyes were red, but she wasn’t crying.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here, peanut.”
A man’s voice spoke from the front.
“You have ninety minutes.”
“Let her go.”
“Sign first.”
“If you hurt her—”
“You should ask your mother why your family was chosen.”
The call ended.
I turned toward Evelyn.
She leaned against a concrete pillar, suddenly looking ten years older.
“What did he mean?”
She shook her head.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
“From losing the house after Emily died.”
Emily was my first wife. Sophie’s mother.
She had been killed by a drunk driver three years earlier.
My mother pulled a key from her purse and placed it in my palm.
“There’s a safe-deposit box at First Federal. Everything started after Emily discovered what was inside.”
My breath stopped.
“You knew Emily was involved?”
A police siren sounded above us.
May you like
Evelyn looked at the empty dress in the van.
“Her death wasn’t an accident, Ethan.”
