[CHAPTER 7]: Victoria Comes For Lily
By the time police reached Lily’s preschool, Victoria and Conrad Pike were gone.
They had never entered the classroom.
The principal had become suspicious when Pike presented a printed authorization instead of using the school’s digital pickup system.
She stalled them.
Victoria realized what was happening and left.
That decision probably saved us from something worse.
But it also gave police the probable cause they needed.
Victoria had violated the temporary restraining order by attempting to access Lily.
An arrest warrant followed.
She disappeared before officers reached her attorney’s office.
I stared at the empty chair across from Detective Monroe.
“How does someone under investigation simply disappear?”
“She planned ahead.”
“Again.”
“Yes.”
“Can you track her phone?”
“It’s off.”
“Car?”
“Found at a parking garage in Beverly Hills.”
“Credit cards?”
“No activity.”
I stood and paced.
“She has help.”
“We believe so.”
“Pike.”
“Likely.”
“Margaret.”
“Also likely.”
I stopped.
“Then they’re together.”
“Maybe.”
I hated that word.
Maybe.
Possibly.
Potentially.
Every official answer lived somewhere between certainty and disaster.
Michael stood near the window.
“She’ll go somewhere familiar.”
Monroe looked at him.
“Such as?”
“The ranch.”
“What ranch?”
“My grandfather owned an equestrian property near Ojai.”
I remembered Victoria mentioning horses as a child.
“Does Margaret still own it?”
“Through a shell company.”
Monroe’s expression sharpened.
“Name?”
Michael gave it to her.
She immediately began making calls.
I turned to him.
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
“Because I didn’t know Margaret still had access.”
“How do you know now?”
“I checked county records this morning.”
“You should have told police.”
“I’m telling them now.”
My temper flared.
“Every hour matters.”
Michael stepped closer.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His face changed.
“I spent eleven years knowing exactly what an hour can cost.”
That stopped me.
I had no right to pretend he didn’t understand fear.
I rubbed my face.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
Neither of us needed more.
Police searched the ranch that evening.
Empty.
But they found something.
A child-sized bed had recently been placed in an upstairs room.
Fresh groceries were in the refrigerator.
A pink suitcase sat inside a closet.
It contained clothes in Lily’s size.
My knees nearly gave out when Monroe showed me the photographs.
“They prepared a room for her.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Some receipts are six weeks old.”
Six weeks.
Victoria had been preparing to take my daughter for at least six weeks.
“Why?”
Monroe sat across from me.
“That’s what we need to establish.”
Michael answered from behind us.
“Money.”
I turned.
“It cannot only be money.”
“For Margaret, it can.”
“But Victoria?”
Michael looked at the floor.
“When we were children, Victoria didn’t start cruel.”
I waited.
“She started scared.”
“Of Margaret?”
“Yes.”
“Then why become like her?”
“Because fear can become worship if you live inside it long enough.”
I thought of Victoria repeating Margaret’s rules.
Good girls do not make adults angry.
Michael continued.
“Margaret rewarded Victoria whenever she controlled me.”
“What kind of reward?”
“Attention. Gifts. Approval.”
“And punished her if she protected you?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“That explains Victoria.”
“No.”
Michael looked at me sharply.
“It explains part of her childhood. It does not excuse what she did to Lily.”
I respected him for saying it.
That night Lily began trauma therapy.
The therapist, Dr. Elaine Foster, used toys and drawings instead of direct questions.
I sat outside the room.
After twenty minutes, Elaine invited me in.
Lily had drawn three houses.
One was large and black.
One was small and yellow.
The third was just a square with no doors.
“What’s that one?” I asked.
Lily pointed.
“The quiet house.”
“What is the quiet house?”
She looked at Elaine.
Then at me.
“Where Mommy Emily lives.”
My throat closed.
Emily had died when Lily was a baby.
Lily knew her mostly through photographs and stories.
“Why doesn’t it have doors?” Elaine asked gently.
“Because dead people can’t come back.”
I swallowed.
Then Lily pointed to the black house.
“That’s Victoria’s.”
“What about our old house?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
I realized she meant Victoria owned the memories now.
“What’s the yellow one?”
“Daddy’s.”
My chest tightened.
“Can I live there?”
“You already do.”
“No dark room?”
“No dark room.”
She looked at Elaine.
“I told you.”
Elaine smiled.
“Yes, you did.”
That night, Lily slept longer.
I didn’t.
Around midnight, my sister Rachel called from Boston.
Nathan had informed her of the estate changes.
She was furious I had not called first.
“You nearly made me Lily’s guardian without telling me?”
“I was going to.”
“When? After you died?”
“I’m sorry.”
Her anger disappeared.
“Daniel, are you in danger?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then say that.”
“I don’t know.”
Silence.
Then she asked, “How’s Lily?”
I told her.
Not everything.
Enough.
Rachel cried quietly.
“I’m flying tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Decide what everyone else can handle.”
I went silent.
Rachel continued.
“You did it after Emily died. You shut everyone out because you thought protecting people meant never needing them.”
I looked toward Lily’s bedroom.
Maybe Victoria had exploited more than my travel.
Maybe she had exploited my isolation.
“I need you,” I said.
Rachel’s breath caught.
“I’ll be there.”
After the call, I received another message.
Unknown number.
This time, not Michael.
A photograph.
Lily.
Taken outside our temporary house earlier that afternoon.
My blood froze.
Then text appeared beneath it.
YOU CANNOT WATCH HER EVERY SECOND.
I called Monroe.
Security immediately locked down the property.
Police traced the message.
Burner phone.
No location.
Rachel called again while officers searched the perimeter.
“What’s happening?”
I told her.
“Daniel, take Lily somewhere else.”
“We’re moving now.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Monroe walked toward me.
Her face was tense.
“What?”
She held up a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a small plastic rabbit.
One of the toys from Lily’s old bedroom.
It had been placed outside the security gate.
A folded note was attached.
Three words.
GOOD GIRLS OBEY.
I felt fury replace fear.
Victoria wasn’t hiding.
She was communicating.
She wanted Lily terrified.
She wanted me reacting.
Michael’s warning returned.
When Victoria loses control, she creates a crisis.
I stared at the note.
Then I made a decision.
I would stop playing defense.
“Detective.”
Monroe looked at me.
“I want to help you find her.”
“You already are.”
“No.”
I handed the note back.
“I mean I want her to think I’m breaking.”
Monroe understood immediately.
“You want to bait her.”
“I want her to believe she still controls me.”
“That can be dangerous.”
“So is waiting.”
May you like
She studied me.
Then she said, “Tell me what you have in mind.”
