Chapter 6 - Columbus PD on Speed Dial
"You were going to run," I whispered, the horror constricting my throat until I could barely squeak. "You were going to take my baby to Europe, steal his inheritance, and never bring him back."
"We were going to send for Daniel!" Patricia pleaded, her face streaked with mascara. "Eventually, once the dust settled! Once the debts were settled in Cleveland, Daniel could have joined us!"
"And me?" I asked, tears burning my eyes. "What about me, Patricia?"
Patricia’s silence was absolute. She didn't even have the decency to lie.
In her eyes, I was disposable. An inconvenient incubator who had served her genetic purpose and could be discarded with a forged custody order and a team of expensive international lawyers fighting my extradition petitions for the next ten years.
"You bastards," Daniel whispered. He grabbed the Swiss visa paperwork and ripped it cleanly in two. Then he shredded Noah's forged custody document, scattering the white scraps across his father’s Italian leather shoes. "You utter, monstrous bastards."
"Daniel, you idiot!" Marcus snarled, taking an aggressive step off the front door toward his brother. "Do you have any idea what you just did? Those were certified apostilles! That took six months of offshore legal work to fabricate!"
"Back up, Marcus," Dad warned, his voice dead flat.
"Stay out of this, old man!" Marcus yelled, completely losing his composure. He lunged forward, aiming to grab the binder off the console table.
He never touched it.
In a blur of motion that belied his sixty years, Lieutenant Robert Hayes sidestepped, caught Marcus’s reaching wrist, twisted it sharply clockwise, and drove his forearm down across Marcus’s shoulder blade.
With a sickening crunch of impact, Marcus’s face slammed flat against the hardwood floor. Dad’s knee planted firmly between Marcus’s shoulder blades, pinning him like an insect under glass. Marcus cried out in pain, his cheek pressed hard against the oak.
"Marcus!" Patricia shrieked, backing into the umbrella stand.
Richard reached into his breast pocket.
"I wouldn't," Dad said calmly, not even breathing hard. With his free left hand, Dad pulled his personal Glock 19 from his inside waistband holster, keeping it pointed safely at a low forty-five-degree angle toward the baseboards, but perfectly visible to everyone in the room. "Keep your hand exactly where it is, Richard. If you pull a phone, a pen, or a key, you take a round to the hip. Understood?"
Richard froze, his arm halfway inside his blazer.
"Daniel," Dad said without breaking eye contact with Richard. "Take your phone out. Call the number taped to the fridge. Ask for Detective Miller. Tell him Lieutenant Hayes has three suspects detained for attempted child abduction, grand larceny, and felony forgery."
Daniel pulled out his phone, his hands shaking so violently he dropped it once before punching the buttons.
"Wait! Daniel, please!" Richard begged, his arrogant facade totally crushed into ash. "Think about what you're doing to your mother! If the police get involved, the SEC audit will destroy everything! We will lose every single dime!"
May you like
"You lost your family the second you packed my son's coat," Daniel said, pressing the phone to his ear. "Detective Miller? This is Daniel Cole. I need you at my house right now."
***
