Detective Collins drove us away from the warehouse in an unmarked car while another vehicle followed several lengths behind.
The photograph sat inside an evidence sleeve on the dashboard.
To anyone else, it looked ordinary.
A young woman holding a baby.
A man standing behind them.
A faded room in the background.
But we knew there was something hidden inside it.
Something David had spent years searching for.
Something Daniel had died protecting.
I sat beside Rachel in the back seat.
She had barely spoken since we left the warehouse.
“You're sure this will work?” I asked.
Collins glanced at me through the rearview mirror.
“We're not relying on one thing working.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we assume your father expects us to make a mistake.”
Rachel reached for my hand.
“And we don't give him one.”
Michael sat in the front passenger seat with his wrists uncuffed.
That alone felt strange.
An hour earlier, he had admitted helping David destroy evidence.
Now he was helping the police catch him.
I didn't trust him.
Neither did Collins.
But Michael knew things nobody else knew.
That made him useful.
We stopped several blocks from my old house.
Collins turned off the engine.
“We'll wait here.”
“What about the photograph?”
He held up the evidence sleeve.
“It's a copy.”
I frowned.
“You made a copy?”
“The original is secure.”
I looked at Michael.
He nodded.
“David won't know.”
“That depends,” Michael said.
“On what?”
“On whether he still has someone inside the department.”
The car became silent.
Collins looked at him.
“Explain.”
Michael shifted in his seat.
“David has paid people before.”
“Police?”
“Sometimes.”
“Names.”
“I don't know all of them.”
Collins stared at him.
“You'd better start remembering.”
Michael looked through the windshield.
“There was one detective.”
“Who?”
“I only knew his last name.”
“What was it?”
“Reed.”
Collins immediately reached for his radio.
I watched his face change.
“You know him.”
“I know the name.”
“Is he working tonight?”
Collins didn't answer.
That frightened me.
Rachel squeezed my fingers.
“Emily, don't worry.”
I almost smiled.
“Everyone keeps telling me not to worry.”
“Because you're carrying too much.”
“I've been carrying it for eight years.”
She looked down.
“I know.”
I studied her face.
“Mom?”
She looked at me.
“Did you ever stop hoping you'd see me again?”
“Never.”
The answer came without hesitation.
I believed her.
That was the first thing she had said since returning that I didn't need to question.
Across the street, a dark sedan turned slowly toward the old house.
Michael leaned forward.
“That isn't David.”
Collins watched it.
The sedan stopped near the curb.
A man stepped out.
He looked toward the house.
Then toward us.
Michael whispered, “Reed.”
Collins cursed under his breath.
The man entered the house.
I stared at the front door.
“What is he doing?”
“Checking whether David's path is clear,” Michael said.
Collins grabbed his radio.
“Units move now.”
The second vehicle accelerated.
Two officers got out.
Reed emerged from the house and froze.
He tried to run.
They caught him before he reached the corner.
Collins exhaled.
Michael looked pale.
“He knew.”
“What did he know?”
“That we were watching.”
“Then David knows too.”
Michael nodded.
We waited.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
Nothing happened.
I began to wonder whether David had changed his plan.
Then my phone rang.
I stared at the screen.
Unknown number.
Rachel immediately shook her head.
“Don't answer.”
But I already had.
“Hello?”
No one spoke.
Then I heard breathing.
My father's voice came through.
“Emily.”
My entire body stiffened.
“Where are you?”
“That doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“You always were curious.”
His tone was almost gentle.
That made it worse.
“I know about the photograph,” he said.
I looked at Collins.
He gestured for me to keep him talking.
“What photograph?”
David laughed softly.
“Don't insult me.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
“You know.”
“I don't.”
“You have your mother now.”
Rachel's face tightened.
David continued.
“She always did make you believe she was protecting you.”
I felt anger rise.
“She was.”
“She abandoned you.”
“No.”
“You've known her for less than a day.”
“I've known your lies for fourteen years.”
There was silence.
Then David said, “You're becoming like her.”
“Good.”
He laughed again.
“Meet me.”
“No.”
“Then I'll destroy everything.”
“What everything?”
“Your mother's life.”
Rachel's face went pale.
“You can't.”
David heard her.
“Rachel.”
She stepped closer.
“Leave my daughter alone.”
“You had your chance.”
“I never abandoned her.”
“You disappeared.”
“Because you threatened her.”
David's voice hardened.
“You always were dramatic.”
I took the phone.
“Where do you want me to meet you?”
Rachel shook her head.
I ignored her.
David gave me an address.
An old warehouse near the river.
Then he said something unexpected.
“Bring the photograph.”
The line went dead.
Collins immediately started giving orders.
“We have the location.”
Michael looked at him.
“You're not going there.”
Collins stared.
“Why?”
“Because David chose it.”
“That is generally how meetings work.”
“No.”
Michael pointed at the phone.
“He knows we're listening.”
Collins frowned.
“How?”
“Because he didn't ask for the photograph until after he heard Rachel.”
I felt cold.
“He knew Mom was here.”
Michael nodded.
“Which means someone has been following us.”
Everyone looked around.
The street seemed empty.
But suddenly every parked car looked suspicious.
Collins ordered the second unit to check the area.
Then he turned to me.
“You did well.”
“I didn't feel like I did.”
“You kept him talking.”
“I wanted answers.”
“You'll get them.”
Rachel pulled me close.
“I don't want you anywhere near that warehouse.”
“I won't be.”
Collins explained the plan.
The photograph would be delivered by an officer.
A second team would surround the building.
A third would monitor every road.
Michael would identify David.
And I would remain with Rachel and Thomas.
Simple.
Except nothing about David had been simple.
Two hours later, the operation began.
We watched through a monitor inside the police vehicle.
An officer carrying the fake photograph entered the warehouse.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Nothing.
Michael leaned toward the screen.
“Something's wrong.”
“What?”
“He should have sent someone.”
Collins looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because David never takes risks himself.”
The warehouse lights suddenly went out.
The screen went black.
Collins swore.
“Backup feed.”
A second camera came online.
Empty room.
The officer was gone.
So was the photograph.
Michael stood.
“No.”
Collins grabbed his arm.
“Sit down.”
“They took him.”
The radio erupted.
“Unit three, report.”
Static.
Then a voice.
“Officer down.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
I stared at the monitor.
A message appeared on the screen.
Not from the police.
Someone had taken control of the system.
Three words appeared in white.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT.
Then the screen went dark.
My phone vibrated.
A photograph had arrived.
It showed the inside of my old bedroom.
On the bed sat the original photograph.
Beside it was the silver necklace.
Underneath them was a handwritten note.
COME HOME, EMILY.
I looked at Rachel.
She understood immediately.
“He has the original.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Thomas had joined us silently.
He took the phone.
His expression hardened.
“That isn't your room.”
I looked closer.
The wallpaper was wrong.
The bed was wrong.
Then I saw something else.
A mirror.
The reflection showed a door.
And someone standing behind it.
I zoomed in.
The image became grainy.
But I recognized the face.
Vanessa.
She was holding a folder.
And behind her stood my father.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: Vanessa Was Still Working for David, and the Folder in Her Hands Contained a Secret That Could Change Who We Trusted
The Night My Father Chose His New Wife, One Broken Bowl Became the Beginning of a Lie I Could No Longer Ignore
Part 9 of 20
