Chapter 8
Ryan survived.
A guard found him before the drug in his water could stop his heart.
He was rushed to the hospital under armed protection.
The jail searched every cell and questioned every employee.
The security cameras outside Ryan’s unit had failed for seven minutes.
That was long enough for someone to enter.
Diane was held on another floor.
Daniel was at a different facility.
Paul had been in police custody.
Holloway had no access to the jail.
Someone else was still working for Diane.
I hated Ryan for what he had done.
But when Lily learned he was in the hospital, she cried.
“He’s still my dad.”
I held her.
“You’re allowed to love him and be angry with him.”
“Is he going to die?”
“No.”
I hoped it was true.
Ryan regained consciousness the next morning.
He asked to see me.
Maya warned me that he might be manipulating me again.
Detective Torres believed the meeting could reveal useful information.
I agreed on one condition.
Ryan would not see Lily.
He looked weak in the hospital bed.
A guard stood outside the door.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Ryan began to cry.
“I’m sorry.”
“Tell me who tried to kill you.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then tell me who Diane prepared to replace you.”
His eyes moved toward the camera in the corner.
“Turn that off.”
“No.”
“Claire, please.”
“If you want my help, speak.”
Ryan took a painful breath.
“My mother has another son.”
I stared at him.
“Daniel’s son. His name is Evan.”
“Your cousin?”
“We grew up like brothers. He looks enough like me to use my identification.”
Ryan explained that Evan Mercer had stayed away from the family’s crimes until six months earlier.
Then gambling debts pulled him in.
Diane paid what he owed.
In return, Evan opened accounts and signed documents using Ryan’s name.
“If the plan failed, she was going to blame everything on me,” Ryan said.
“You participated.”
“Yes. But not in all of it.”
“Did you know about the brake line?”
His silence lasted too long.
“I knew she wanted an accident.”
My anger returned with full force.
“You knew, and you let me get into that car.”
“I planned to stop you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“You weren’t trapped, Ryan. You were greedy.”
He closed his eyes.
“I loved you.”
“You drugged me.”
“My mother handled the tea.”
“You watched her choke me.”
“I was scared.”
“So was Lily. She still acted.”
He began sobbing.
I felt no comfort in it.
“Where is Evan?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But he has a tattoo of a black bird on his wrist.”
I left the room.
Torres searched jail employment records.
A temporary maintenance worker named Eric Mason had entered the building the day Ryan was poisoned.
His photograph showed a black bird tattoo.
His real identity was Evan Mercer.
Police traced his vehicle to the courthouse parking garage.
They found blood in the trunk.
It belonged to Mark Holloway.
Federal agents checked Holloway’s protected location.
He was gone.
A guard had been injured.
Security footage showed Evan forcing Holloway into a car.
An alert went out across the state.
Hours passed.
Then Holloway called Detective Torres himself.
His voice was weak.
He said Evan had taken him to the old Carter family house outside the city.
The line disconnected before he could say more.
Police prepared a rescue operation.
I knew that house.
Diane had taken us there for Thanksgiving when Lily was six.
It had been empty for years.
In the basement was a furnace room with no windows.
Rebecca had described being locked in a basement.
The house was where their family’s violence had begun.
Torres ordered me to remain at the station.
Dad stayed with Lily while I watched updates arrive.
Police entered the house shortly before midnight.
They found Holloway tied to a chair.
He was injured but alive.
Evan was gone.
On the wall behind Holloway, photographs of our family had been arranged in a circle.
My picture was crossed out.
Ryan’s was crossed out.
Dad’s was crossed out.
Only Lily’s remained untouched.
Beneath it, Evan had written:
SHE BELONGS TO US.
I ran toward the room where Dad and Lily were waiting.
It was empty.
Dad’s phone lay on the floor.
A chair had been knocked over.
The window was open.
Then my phone rang.
Evan spoke before I could say anything.
“Bring Rebecca to the Carter house by sunrise.”
“Let me speak to Lily.”
A frightened breath came through the line.
“Mom?”
“I’m here, baby.”
“Don’t bring Rebecca.”
Evan pulled the phone away.
“You have four hours.”
The call ended.
A second later, Dad staggered into the hallway.
Blood ran from his forehead.
May you like
“He took her,” Dad gasped. “I couldn’t stop him.”
For the first time since this nightmare began, my daughter was truly gone.
