Chapter 5 - The Son He Took Next
The elevator seemed to move in slow motion.
Twenty-nine floors.
Twenty-nine chances to imagine the worst.
“Ethan!”
I ran into the lobby.
The security desk was empty.
Then I saw a guard lying behind it.
Alive.
Dazed.
A bruise forming near his forehead.
“Where is my son?”
He blinked.
“Black SUV.”
Caleb ran to the doors.
We saw taillights disappear around the corner.
“Ethan!”
I ran into the street like I could chase a vehicle in heels.
Detective Lopez grabbed my arm.
“Victoria!”
“He has him!”
“I know.”
“He has Ethan!”
Caleb stood beside me, breathing hard.
“Mom.”
I turned.
“He won’t hurt Ethan yet.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because hurting people isn’t the point for Richard.”
“What is?”
“Control.”
The word froze me.
Caleb continued.
“He took Ethan because he needs something.”
“The drive.”
“Yes.”
My phone rang.
Richard.
Lopez connected recording equipment.
I answered.
“Let me talk to Ethan.”
“You’re not making demands.”
“Richard—”
“The drive.”
“Police have it.”
“You’ll get it.”
“They already copied it.”
A pause.
That worried me.
“Then you better hope there’s nothing on the original they haven’t found.”
My stomach tightened.
“What else is on it?”
“Get it.”
“Let me hear Ethan.”
Silence.
Then my son.
“Mom?”
My knees weakened.
“Ethan.”
“I’m okay.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Richard grabbed the phone back.
“Enough.”
“Ethan!”
“Mom!”
The line changed.
Richard again.
“Two hours.”
Then he hung up.
I stared at Lopez.
“There’s something else on that drive.”
“We’ll find it.”
Caleb was thinking.
“What?”
“Richard won’t go somewhere new.”
“How do you know?”
“He likes controlled places.”
“Where?”
“Montauk.”
My chest tightened.
“The beach house?”
“He took me there before Saint Bartholomew.”
“What?”
“The maintenance cottage.”
I felt sick.
“You were there after you disappeared?”
“One night.”
Less than a hundred yards from where I slept.
Richard had hidden our son on the same property while police prepared searches.
Caleb suddenly looked up.
“The marina.”
“What?”
“The boathouse.”
“Why?”
“He used to say water removes evidence.”
Lopez immediately radioed local police.
I grabbed my purse.
“You stay here,” she said.
“No.”
“Victoria.”
“He has my thirteen-year-old.”
“And if you rush in—”
“I am going.”
Caleb stepped beside me.
“So am I.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
I stopped.
Fear was turning me into another person making choices for him.
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“I don’t want Richard near you.”
“He already spent seven years controlling my life.”
I swallowed.
“I need to help Ethan.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
We flew by police helicopter to Long Island.
Caleb barely spoke.
As the coastline appeared, his hands started shaking.
I placed my hand near his.
Not on it.
He looked.
Then covered my hand with his.
Neither of us spoke.
Police searched the beach house.
Empty.
The maintenance cottage.
Empty.
Then a radio call came from the marina.
Movement.
We stayed behind officers.
Until I heard Ethan.
“Mom!”
Everything disappeared.
I ran.
“Victoria!”
Lopez shouted behind me.
The boathouse door stood open.
Richard was inside.
Ethan sat near the back.
His hands tied loosely.
Richard wasn’t holding a gun.
He didn’t need one.
His weapon had always been fear.
“Mom!”
“I’m here.”
Richard smiled.
“You brought Caleb.”
Caleb moved beside me.
“Let Ethan go.”
“You always ruin things.”
Caleb flinched.
I stepped in front of him.
“No.”
Richard looked at me.
“He was difficult from birth.”
“He was a child.”
“He challenged everything.”
“He saw you hurt me.”
“He misunderstood our marriage.”
“No.”
My voice surprised me.
“You taught all of us to misunderstand you.”
Richard’s eyes hardened.
“Give me the drive.”
Police had provided a decoy.
I held it up.
“Let Ethan walk out.”
“Bring it here.”
“No.”
Richard gripped Ethan’s shoulder.
My son cried out.
Caleb lunged.
I caught him.
“Wait.”
Richard smiled.
“Good. He learned obedience eventually.”
Caleb shook with rage.
I looked at Ethan.
Then at the drive.
Richard said, “Choose.”
That word.
Choose.
He had made Caleb believe I chose Richard over him.
He forced Caleb to choose between coming home and protecting Ethan.
Now he wanted me to choose between evidence and my child.
“No.”
His smile vanished.
“What?”
“I’m not choosing anymore.”
“Victoria—”
“You made every person in this family believe love required sacrifice to you.”
I threw the drive onto the dock.
Richard’s head turned instinctively.
Ethan moved.
He dropped his body exactly as Caleb had secretly told him to during the helicopter flight.
Richard lost his grip.
Caleb rushed forward.
He placed himself between Richard and Ethan.
Again.
Always between.
But this time police were there.
Officers surged inside.
Richard struggled.
“Get off me!”
Ethan ran into my arms.
I held him so tightly he gasped.
“Mom.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m okay.”
Behind us, Lopez handcuffed Richard.
He twisted toward Caleb.
“You think anyone will believe your story about the fire?”
Caleb went pale.
Then Lopez said:
“We have your recording.”
Richard stopped.
“What?”
“The recording where you discussed destroying evidence while children were locked downstairs.”
For the first time in my life, I saw real fear in Richard Harrison’s face.
Then another detective hurried toward Lopez with a laptop.
“We finished indexing the drive.”
Richard’s face changed again.
“What?” Lopez asked.
The detective looked toward Caleb.
Then me.
“There are videos.”
“Of what?”
His expression told me before he spoke.
“Richard’s visits to Saint Bartholomew.”
Caleb stopped breathing.
The detective swallowed.
“He recorded what he called compliance sessions.”
May you like
Richard had spent seven years denying what he did.
And now we had discovered he had filmed himself doing it.
