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Chapter 17 - A Mother's Kind of Love

"He's alive," Claire said.

Lena watched the traffic footage again. "And his mother is taking him somewhere he can't talk."

Torres returned with two detectives. They enlarged the license plate, but it belonged to a city utility truck reported stolen that afternoon.

"She's cutting loose the last person who can testify against her," Torres said.

Claire's phone rang. Unknown number.

"Claire," Margaret said. "I need Ruth's phone."

"The police have it."

"Then tell them to bring it."

"Where's Ethan?"

A painful breath sounded. Then his voice: "Don't give her anything."

Margaret struck him. Claire heard the blow.

"You made him like this," Margaret said. "He could have had everything. Instead he fell in love with a girl from Riverbend and started feeling guilty."

"You think loving someone is a weakness. That's why everyone leaves you."

Margaret's voice sharpened. "Bring the phone to the East Harbor parking garage by four. No police. Or my son won't see sunrise."

She hung up.

Claire handed the phone to Torres without hesitating.

"I don't want to do another trade," she said. "I want you to stop her."

"We can use the original phone as bait. But she knows your face."

"Then she'll look at me instead of your officers."

Torres explained the plan. Claire would wear a concealed microphone and walk into the garage with an evidence case. Officers would watch the exits. If Margaret pulled a weapon, Claire was to drop the case and get down.

"What about Ellie?" Torres asked.

Claire glanced into her daughter's room. Nina was reading aloud from a battered picture book, and Ellie was finally asleep.

"She stays with Nina and a police officer right outside the door."

Before leaving, Claire stopped by the bed. She tucked the blanket beneath Ellie's chin. For years she had told her daughter bedtime stories in which the brave people always knew what to do. Tonight, she knew bravery was making a choice while being scared enough to shake.

At 3:47 a.m., Claire entered the East Harbor garage.

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A car engine turned over in the darkness above her. Margaret's voice drifted down through the concrete ramps.

"You brought the phone? Good. Now you can watch what happens to your husband."

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