Chapter 8 - The Window
I did not think.
I grabbed Lily with one hand and my phone with the other.
“Upstairs. Bathroom. Lock the door.”
Her eyes widened.
“Mom—”
“Now.”
Dad was already moving toward the back of the house.
I caught his sleeve.
“No. We call 911.”
The man on camera bent toward the window.
Then he noticed the lens above the patio door.
He turned.
The image caught half his face.
He ran.
By the time police arrived, he was gone.
An officer found muddy footprints near the fence and a small screwdriver under Lily’s window.
Nothing had been taken.
That scared me more.
The officer watched the security clip twice.
“Recognize him?”
I shook my head.
Dad leaned closer to the screen.
“Wait.”
He took off his glasses, cleaned them, and looked again.
“I’ve seen him.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Daniel’s warehouse.”
The room went silent.
Dad pointed at the frozen frame.
“He was at the company Christmas party. I think his name was Mitch.”
Police took the name.
I texted Vanessa.
DOES DANIEL EMPLOY SOMEONE NAMED MITCH?
She called immediately.
“What happened?”
I told her.
Her breathing changed.
“Rachel, take Lily and leave your house.”
That was not the response I expected.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Tell me why.”
Vanessa started crying.
“Because Daniel has been meeting people I don’t know.”
“What people?”
“I thought they were investors.”
“And now?”
“I found cash in the garage. A lot of it.”
Dad took the phone from me.
“How much cash?”
“Maybe thirty thousand.”
“Where is Daniel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Vanessa—”
“I swear.”
Then she lowered her voice.
“He left after your fight. He took the black SUV.”
My skin went cold.
“The one he bought last year?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Dad.
The SUV from outside my parents’ house was black.
Dad looked sick.
Vanessa whispered, “Rachel, I know you hate me right now, but listen to me. Daniel asked me this morning whether you still keep important documents in the office by the kitchen.”
I looked toward my home office.
“What documents?”
“He didn’t say.”
I walked in and opened the bottom drawer of my filing cabinet.
Passports.
Birth certificates.
Tax returns.
My financial records.
Everything was there except one folder.
My late grandmother’s estate file.
The file containing the paperwork for a small rental property she had left me in Dayton.
The deed was missing.
So was the key.
Then my phone buzzed.
A photo arrived from the same unknown number.
It showed the front of my rental house.
May you like
Under it were three words.
CALL OFF POLICE.
