Chapter 6 - THE PLANE
Money can do extraordinary things.
It can also reveal how powerless you really are.
Within fifteen minutes, I had attorneys speaking to federal authorities, aviation experts tracing flight plans, and private security coordinating with Bahamian officials.
I would have traded every dollar I owned for one simple thing:
Sophie safely asleep in Claire Harrison’s arms.
The plane was registered to Whitmore Holdings.
Destination: Nassau.
Except Marcus discovered something strange.
“They filed Nassau.”
“What does that mean?”
“It doesn’t mean they’re going there.”
“Can they change course?”
“Of course.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A child was crying.
“Sophie?”
The crying stopped.
A tiny voice whispered:
“Who are you?”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“My name is Daniel.”
“Do you know Mommy Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s looking for you.”
Victoria’s voice appeared in the background.
“Give me the phone.”
Sophie started crying again.
“No!”
I heard movement.
Then Victoria.
“You shouldn’t have involved police.”
“You kidnapped a four-year-old.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“You surrendered every right to call yourself her mother when you tried to erase her existence.”
Victoria inhaled sharply.
“You believe Arthur.”
“I believe recordings.”
“You think you know everything.”
“Then tell me.”
“Our marriage was dead long before Sophie.”
“We’re not discussing our marriage.”
“I spent years waiting for you.”
“You had an affair.”
“You chose work.”
“You chose another man.”
“You chose money first!”
“And what did Sophie choose?”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought.”
Victoria began crying.
“I didn’t want to kill her.”
“Arthur says you did.”
“Arthur lies.”
“Then why did Rachel have to hide her?”
“Because my mother said Daniel Cole would destroy all of us if he learned the truth.”
“Your mother was protecting money.”
“Yes.”
“And you listened.”
“I was scared.”
“So was Rachel.”
“She shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
“And Emily?”
Victoria’s voice hardened.
“Emily came into my home under false pretenses.”
“So you tortured her?”
“I lost control.”
“You strapped babies to a bleeding woman.”
Silence.
“Tell me where you’re going.”
“No.”
“Victoria.”
“Maybe you should worry about your actual children.”
I stood.
“What does that mean?”
She laughed softly.
“You left Ava and Noah with Lauren.”
My blood turned to ice.
“How do you know?”
“Because my mother knows everything.”
The call ended.
“Marcus!”
He was already dialing.
Lauren answered immediately.
“They’re fine.”
“Check the house.”
“What?”
“Check every room. Lock downstairs. Get security inside.”
A crash sounded over the phone.
Lauren screamed.
Then the call disconnected.
We were forty-seven miles away.
I have never known a drive longer than those forty-seven miles.
Police reached my sister’s house first.
So did our security.
The twins were safe.
Lauren had been frightened by a window breaking downstairs.
A rock had been thrown through it.
Attached to the rock was a note.
DROP THE SEARCH FOR SOPHIE.
OR NEXT TIME IT WON’T BE GLASS.
I stared at the note.
Margaret had planned everything.
Threaten Caleb.
Control Victoria.
Silence Rachel.
Monitor Emily.
Now threaten my twins.
But she made a mistake.
Threats work best on people with something to lose.
I had everything to lose.
Which meant I had nothing left to negotiate.
I contacted federal investigators and gave them every file we had found.
Every recording.
Every account.
Every message.
No protection for the Cole name.
No concern about newspapers.
No fear of scandal.
Burn it all.
Just find the children.
At 2:17 a.m., aviation authorities reported that Margaret’s aircraft had changed course.
Not Nassau.
Turks and Caicos.
Then changed again.
Cayman Islands.
Marcus frowned.
“She’s trying to confuse tracking.”
At 3:01, the aircraft descended unexpectedly.
Not internationally.
Back into the United States.
South Carolina.
Charleston Executive Airport.
“Why?”
Marcus looked at the flight path.
“Maybe Sophie got sick.”
Or someone had forced them down.
Local authorities surrounded the plane.
But when officers boarded, they found Margaret.
Alone.
Victoria and Sophie were gone.
Margaret sat in a cream leather seat sipping sparkling water as if nothing unusual had happened.
Police arrested her.
I spoke to her through a federal video call forty minutes later.
She smiled when she saw me.
“Daniel.”
“Where is Sophie?”
“No hello?”
“Where is she?”
“You always were impatient.”
“You kidnapped a child.”
“Victoria took her own daughter.”
“You helped.”
Margaret shrugged.
“Families help one another.”
“Where is Victoria?”
“I don’t know.”
“Liar.”
“Careful.”
“You don’t frighten me anymore.”
That changed her expression.
For years Margaret had controlled rooms with disapproval alone.
Now I felt nothing.
I leaned closer to the screen.
“You had Rachel Bennett silenced.”
“No.”
“You threatened Caleb.”
“No.”
“You told Victoria to make Sophie disappear.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re reading private correspondence without context.”
“Context doesn’t rescue you.”
She smiled.
“Perhaps you should ask Arthur about Rachel before accusing me.”
“Why?”
“Because Arthur loved Rachel.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
Margaret laughed.
“You really don’t know anything.”
She leaned toward the camera.
“Arthur didn’t threaten Rachel because she took Sophie.”
Her voice dropped.
“He helped her take Sophie.”
I felt dizzy.
“Then why was Rachel’s license at his house?”
“Because she lived there.”
“Caleb heard her scream.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Margaret’s smile disappeared.
“Because the night Rachel vanished, Victoria found them together.”
My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
Margaret looked toward someone outside the camera.
Then back.
“Victoria wasn’t the victim in that house, Daniel.”
Her voice went cold.
“Rachel was.”
The video feed suddenly cut.
I stared at the black screen.
Then Marcus walked into the room holding a tablet.
“We found Victoria.”
“Where?”
He turned the screen toward me.
A traffic camera photograph showed a black SUV.
Victoria was driving.
Sophie was visible in the rear seat.
Beside Victoria sat a woman.
Dark hair.
Thin face.
Older than Emily.
Marcus zoomed in.
I stopped breathing.
I had seen that face in dozens of photographs.
Rachel Bennett.
May you like
The missing nurse wasn’t dead.
She was sitting beside my wife.
