Chapter 11 - TANNER’S SECOND MESSAGE
I grabbed the intercom.
“Tanner, can you hear me?”
Static filled the speaker.
Then his voice returned.
“Dad, I’m in a room with books.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“There’s a man outside.”
“Did you see him?”
“He has a red tie.”
Judge Holloway always wore red ties in court.
“Listen to me carefully.”
“Can you lock the door?”
“I pushed a chair under it.”
“That was smart.”
A pounding sound came through the intercom.
Tanner gasped.
“He knows I have the camera.”
“Hide it.”
“I already did.”
“Where?”
He went silent.
The pounding grew louder.
“Tanner?”
A man’s voice replaced his.
“Mr. Pierce.”
Judge Holloway sounded irritated.
“Your son is safe.”
“You signed forged orders.”
“I signed emergency protections based on medical evidence.”
“You helped them kidnap him.”
“Control your language.”
Children were still trapped above us.
Smoke burned my lungs.
Gerald held the remote.
Officer Ruiz watched his thumb.
Vale stood nearest the manual release panel.
I looked at him.
Then at the sprinkler pipe above Gerald.
Vale understood.
He stepped backward deliberately.
Gerald turned toward him.
“You never had courage.”
Vale lowered his eyes.
“You are right.”
Then he grabbed a fire extinguisher and struck the sprinkler valve.
Water exploded from the broken pipe.
Gerald flinched.
Ruiz fired one shot into the remote in his hand.
The device shattered.
Vale slammed the manual release.
Metal locks disengaged throughout the clinic.
Doors opened above us.
Staff began evacuating the children.
Ruiz handcuffed Gerald.
I returned to the intercom.
“Tanner, are you still there?”
No answer.
Only a scraping sound.
Then three slow taps.
Pause.
One tap.
Pause.
Four taps.
Pause.
Two taps.
3-1-4-2.
His emergency code.
“He is leaving another message,” I said.
Ruiz leaned closer.
The taps repeated.
Then Tanner whispered four words.
“Red.”
“Window.”
“Clock.”
“Bird.”
The line went dead.
Ruiz stared at me.
“What does that mean?”
I pictured Judge Holloway’s chambers.
I had been there during the guardianship hearing after Olivia died.
Red curtains.
A tall window.
A grandfather clock.
A carved eagle above the door.
“Bird means eagle.”
“The old courthouse has an eagle statue over the east entrance.”
“Window and clock tell us where.”
“The judge’s private chambers face the clock tower.”
Ruiz radioed every available unit.
Gerald laughed behind us.
“You are too late.”
I turned toward him.
“Why?”
“Because Holloway does not need the boy.”
“He needs the camera.”
“And once he has it, he has no reason to keep Tanner alive.”
Officer Ruiz shoved Gerald toward another deputy.
We raced outside.
The clinic burned behind us, but children streamed safely onto the lawn.
I should have felt relief.
Instead, I saw Tanner’s face in every terrified child.
The courthouse stood twelve minutes away.
We reached it in nine.
The east entrance was locked.
Ruiz shattered the glass.
We climbed the private staircase.
At the top, the hallway was empty.
Judge Holloway’s chamber door stood open.
Inside, a chair lay overturned.
The grandfather clock had stopped.
The red curtain moved beside the open window.
Tanner was gone.
A phone sat on the desk.
The screen displayed a live video.
Judge Holloway stood on the courthouse roof.
He held Tanner by the shoulder near the edge.
May you like
“Bring me the chess camera,” he said.
“Or your son takes the fastest way down.”
