Chapter 7 - Cornered
"He was on the line for forty-two seconds," Detective Reyes reported over the radio as police cruisers sped toward my house. I was in the back of Reyes’ unmarked vehicle, insisting on coming along despite his warnings. I couldn't just sit by while this man played mind games with my life.
"Did you trace the call?" I asked frantically.
"It pinged off a cell tower near the old industrial park, three miles from your house," Reyes said. "He didn't make that call from the border. He's close."
When we arrived at my house, tactical officers were already surrounding the property. A bomb squad unit carefully approached the front porch, where a small, brown cardboard box sat resting against my front door.
After ten nerve-wracking minutes, the head officer gave the all-clear. "It's not an explosive. It's safe."
Reyes and I approached the porch. The officer opened the box using gloved hands. Inside was Chloe's yellow raincoat—the one she had forgotten in the art room on Friday—and a folded piece of paper.
Reyes picked up the paper with tweezers and read it. His jaw tightened.
"What does it say?" I demanded.
"He's at the old grain silo near the railroad tracks," Reyes said. "He says he's waiting there. He wants to talk to you, Sarah. Alone. He claims if he sees police cars, he’ll end it all before he faces trial."
"He's trying to control the narrative," I realized, the horror crystallizing into sharp clarity. "He knows he's caught. He knows the recording proves everything. He wants one last act of control."
"We're going in," Reyes said firmly. "Sinking his ship before he can run. But you are staying in this car, Mrs. Miller. That is non-negotiable."
"No," I said, stepping right up to the detective, my eyes burning with an unshakeable resolve. "He wants to see me. If he sees tactical units swarming the building, he might bolt or do something desperate. Let me walk up to the entrance. Keep your officers hidden in the treeline. The moment he steps out to talk to me, you take him down."
Reyes looked at me, seeing the fierce, unyielding light of a mother protecting her child. He knew I wasn't backing down.
May you like
"Five hundred feet," Reyes warned. "You stop five hundred feet away. You do not go inside that building. SWAT will be right behind you in the shadows."
"Deal."
