Chapter 10 - MY SISTER'S SIGNATURE
“I signed your name.”
Five words.
Five words almost destroyed what was left of us.
I stared at Melissa across the police conference room.
“You forged my signature on a $275,000 loan?”
“Dad said it was temporary.”
I laughed.
A terrible, empty laugh.
“Temporary fraud?”
“He said the bakery building technically belonged to the family.”
“You knew that wasn't true.”
“I didn't know about Grandma’s trust.”
“But you knew I didn't sign.”
“Yes.”
Jasmine muttered something under her breath.
Melissa wiped her face.
“Dad said he'd refinance everything once a development project closed.”
“So you helped him steal from me.”
“I was scared.”
“You were scared?”
My chair scraped backward.
“I spent seven years working six days a week. I slept on a cot in the bakery when the oven broke because I couldn't afford a repairman and rent in the same month. I missed vacations. I missed weddings. I ate peanut butter sandwiches for dinner.”
Melissa stared at the table.
“And while I was doing that,” I said, “you were signing my name so Dad could gamble with my building.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you're sorry it failed.”
She started sobbing.
I felt nothing.
Then Ruiz entered.
“We may have a location.”
The train horn and diner advertisement narrowed the search.
One Millie’s Route 8 Diner sat across from a cheap motel near freight tracks.
Officers were moving in.
“Can I come?”
“No.”
Of course.
Twenty-seven minutes later, Dad called again.
This time Ruiz had equipment ready to trace it.
“I told you not to involve police,” Dad said.
“You broke into my bakery, forged financial documents, threatened me, and kidnapped Mom. Who was I supposed to call? A family therapist?”
Dad was silent.
Then I heard Mom.
“Hannah?”
My chest tightened.
“Mom?”
“I’m okay.”
Dad took the phone back.
“Listen carefully. I left the motel.”
Ruiz’s face changed.
Dad continued.
“I know police are around it.”
“How?”
“Because I’m not stupid.”
That was debatable.
“I still have your mother.”
Mom cried in the background.
Dad lowered his voice.
“Come to the old Riverside plant at six.”
“No.”
“You bring signed authorization for the bakery sale.”
“No.”
“Then maybe Melissa becomes an only child.”
A chill moved through me.
“You'd kill me?”
“I would never hurt you.”
The lie came easily.
He had said accidents happen.
“You just threatened me.”
“I’m trying to save this family!”
“No. You're trying to save yourself.”
He screamed suddenly.
“EVERYTHING I DID WAS FOR YOU GIRLS!”
I pulled the phone away.
Then his voice softened.
“Six o'clock.”
The call ended.
Ruiz immediately said, “You're not going.”
“I know.”
He seemed surprised.
I looked at Melissa.
She was staring at the floor.
“But Dad thinks I am.”
Ruiz understood.
“We can use that.”
By 5:30, police were positioned around the abandoned Riverside textile plant.
I stayed inside an unmarked van several blocks away.
At 5:57, Dad arrived.
But Mom wasn't with him.
He walked into the building carrying a backpack.
Ruiz cursed.
“Where is she?”
Then my phone received a video.
Mom was tied to a chair.
Behind her was a brick wall.
A digital timer sat on a table.
29:58.
29:57.
29:56.
Dad had recorded a message.
“You wanted police involved, Hannah?”
The camera moved toward a red gasoline container on the floor.
“Now they get to race you.”
The video ended.
May you like
Mom wasn't at Riverside.
And we had less than thirty minutes to find her.
