Chapter 6
The world stopped.
“Mexico?” I whispered.
Alvarez nodded. “Booked it yesterday. Paid cash. Using a passport he renewed six months ago that we didn’t know about. He’s planning to run, Lena. Before the criminal case can go to trial.”
My blood ran cold.
“But the judge just ordered him to have no contact with Sophie. He can’t leave the country. There’s a pending criminal case.”
“Exactly. Which is why we’re moving. I’ve already got units heading to the airport. We’re also putting a BOLO out on his car. But Lena… if he gets on that plane, he’s gone. Mexico doesn’t extradite on these kinds of charges. Not easily, anyway. It could take years to get him back. If ever.”
I looked across the parking lot. Mark was just getting into his car with Voss. He hadn’t seen us yet.
“He’s right there,” I said, pointing. “Arrest him now.”
Alvarez shook his head.
“We don’t have grounds yet. Buying a plane ticket isn’t a crime. We can pick him up for questioning, but Voss will have him out in an hour. We need more. We need proof he intended to flee to avoid prosecution.”
He thought for a second.
“Here’s what we do. We follow him. If he goes to the airport, we stop him at the gate. We detain him long enough to get a warrant for flight risk. It’s thin, but it might hold. If he goes home… we keep watching.”
He paused.
“You should go home, Lena. Be with Sophie. This is police work now.”
But I couldn’t go home. Not now. Not when Mark was this close to getting away.
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
“Lena—”
“You need someone who knows him. Someone who can tell you if he’s acting weird, if he’s going somewhere unexpected. I’m the only person who knows how he thinks. Please, Detective. Let me help.”
Alvarez studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded.
“Fine. But you stay in the car. You do exactly what I say. No heroics. If I tell you to duck, you duck. If I tell you to stay back, you stay back. Understood?”
“Understood.”
I told my mom and Jenna to take Sophie home. I promised I’d call as soon as I knew anything. Then I got into Alvarez’s unmarked sedan, and we pulled out of the parking lot, keeping Mark’s black SUV in sight.
He didn’t go to the airport.
He drove across town to a storage facility on the edge of the city. He parked, went inside, and came out twenty minutes later carrying two large duffel bags. He threw them in the back of his SUV and got back behind the wheel.
“Duffel bags,” Alvarez said into his radio. “Looks like he’s packed. Heading south on 5th Street. Possibly toward the airport.”
Mark drove for another twenty minutes. Then, suddenly, he turned off the highway onto a small country road.
“Where’s he going?” Alvarez muttered.
I knew.
My stomach dropped.
“He’s going to the lake house,” I said.
“The lake house?”
“We own a small cabin an hour outside of town. We haven’t been there in over a year. He never liked it. Said it was too much work. But… it’s secluded. No neighbors for miles. If he’s planning to run… he might be going there to get something. Or to wait until dark.”
Alvarez radioed the information in. Two more units joined us, falling back far enough that Mark wouldn’t see them.
The sun was starting to set by the time we turned onto the long dirt road leading to the cabin. We parked half a mile away, hidden by trees, and watched through binoculars as Mark pulled up to the house.
He got out of his car and looked around. For a long moment, he stood perfectly still, scanning the woods. I held my breath. He’d always had a sixth sense about being watched.
Then he seemed satisfied. He took the duffel bags out of the back and carried them inside. A minute later, the lights came on.
“Units are in position,” Alvarez said into his radio. “We wait for the warrant. Should be another twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes.
We sat in the dark car, watching the lights of the cabin glow through the trees. The forest was quiet except for the sound of crickets.
“Why didn’t he just go straight to the airport?” I asked.
Alvarez lowered his binoculars.
“Because Mark Carter doesn’t do anything simple. If he’d gone straight to the airport after the hearing, we would’ve picked him up before he got through security. This way… he waits until dark. Maybe he has someone meeting him here. A private plane from one of the small airfields nearby. Maybe he’s planning to drive south to the border. Either way, he’s buying time.”
He looked at me.
“You okay?”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t.
Every time I looked at that cabin, I thought of all the weekends we’d spent there. Sophie learning to skip stones. Mark grilling burgers. Us sitting on the porch at night, drinking wine, talking about the future.
All of it a lie.
Then I saw something.
A second car. Coming down the dirt road. No headlights.
“Detective,” I said, pointing. “Look.”
Alvarez raised his binoculars.
“Got it. Dark sedan. No plates. Moving slow.”
The car pulled up behind Mark’s SUV. A man got out. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his face. He knocked on the cabin door. Mark opened it immediately. He looked relieved.
They talked for a minute. Then the man helped Mark carry the duffel bags back out to the sedan.
“They’re leaving,” Alvarez said. “All units, move in. Now.”
Squad cars roared to life. Red and blue lights flashed through the trees. Sirens wailed.
Mark and the man froze. They looked toward the sound of the sirens. Then they scrambled into the sedan. Tires spun in the dirt. The car took off back down the road—straight toward us.
“Hold on,” Alvarez said.
He threw the car into drive and pulled out onto the road, blocking it. The sedan swerved to avoid us, fishtailing into the ditch on the other side. More squad cars skidded to a halt, surrounding them. Officers jumped out, guns drawn.
“POLICE! GET OUT OF THE CAR! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then the driver’s door opened. The tall man got out slowly, hands up. He was cuffed immediately and led away.
But the passenger door stayed closed.
“Mark!” Alvarez yelled. “Get out of the car! Now!”
Still nothing.
Alvarez signaled to two officers. They moved slowly toward the sedan, guns raised. One reached for the door handle.
And then the window rolled down.
Mark was in the passenger seat. He had one arm around a woman I didn’t recognize. In his other hand, he held a gun.
He pressed the barrel to the woman’s temple.
“Stay back!” he screamed. His voice was nothing like the calm, smooth tone I knew. It was raw. Desperate. “Stay back or I’ll blow her head off!”
The woman was crying. “Please,” she sobbed. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Mark,” Alvarez said, keeping his voice even. “Put the gun down. There’s nowhere to go. Just let her go, and we can talk about this.”
“Talk?” Mark laughed. It was a terrible, broken sound. “You think I’m stupid? You’ll put me in jail for the rest of my life. I’ll never see Sophie again. I’d rather die than go to prison for something I didn’t do.”
He pressed the gun harder against the woman’s head. She whimpered.
“Mark,” I said. I opened my door and stepped out of the car, hands up.
Alvarez looked at me, horrified. “Lena, get back in the car—”
“Mark, it’s me.” I took a step toward the sedan. “It’s Lena. Just put the gun down. Please. She has nothing to do with this.”
Mark’s head snapped toward me. His eyes were wild. Bloodshot. Nothing like the eyes of the man I’d married.
“You,” he spat. “This is all your fault. If you’d just kept your mouth shut, none of this would be happening. We would’ve been fine. A family. Happy.”
“I know you’re scared, Mark. But this isn’t the way. Let her go. We can fix this.”
“Fix it?” He laughed again. “You think anything can be fixed now? You ruined everything. You ruined me. You ruined Sophie. You turned everyone against me.”
Tears were streaming down his face now.
“I loved her, Lena. I loved her more than anything. The things we had… they were special. You just couldn’t stand that she loved me more than she loved you.”
My stomach turned.
“Let her go, Mark,” I said again. “For Sophie. If not for me, do it for her. She doesn’t need to grow up knowing her daddy is a murderer.”
The mention of Sophie’s name seemed to reach him.
His hand shook. The gun wavered away from the woman’s temple for just a second.
That was all the officers needed.
One fired a beanbag round through the open window. It hit Mark square in the chest. He grunted and doubled over, the gun flying out of his hand. Two officers dove through the window, dragging him out of the car. He hit the ground hard, face down in the dirt. They cuffed him roughly and pulled him to his feet.
The woman scrambled out of the other side, sobbing, and ran into the arms of a waiting officer.
Mark was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. He looked up at me as they led him past. His eyes were full of hatred.
“This isn’t over,” he whispered, so only I could hear. “I’ll get out. And when I do… I’m taking Sophie with me. And you’ll never see either of us again.”
They put him in the back of a squad car and drove away.
Alvarez came over to me. His face was pale.
“Never do that again,” he said. “You hear me? Never step out in front of a man with a gun like that. You could’ve been killed.”
“I know,” I said. My legs were shaking so bad I could barely stand. “But it worked, didn’t it?”
He sighed. “Yeah. It worked. He’s going away this time, Lena. No bail. Flight risk, weapons charge, kidnapping, assault on an officer… he’s looking at life even before the abuse charges go to trial.”
The woman Mark had taken hostage turned out to be a private pilot he’d hired to fly him to Mexico. She’d had no idea who he was or what he’d done. She was just a single mom trying to make extra money on the side. She gave a full statement.
The duffel bags were full of cash. Almost two hundred thousand dollars. Mark had emptied all the bank accounts—including Sophie’s college fund. He’d also taken jewelry, family heirlooms, and a stack of fake IDs.
The DA added more charges.
Mark was denied bail. He was locked up in the county jail, awaiting trial.
For the first time in months, I breathed easy.
He couldn’t hurt Sophie anymore.
He couldn’t run.
He couldn’t threaten us.
But the relief didn’t last long.
Because a week later, I got a letter.
It was postmarked from the county jail. The handwriting was Mark’s. Neat. Precise.
I opened it with shaking hands.
My dearest Lena,
I’m writing this from a cell smaller than our bathroom. The food is terrible. The guards are animals. But I don’t blame you for any of this. I know you’re confused. I know you’ve been manipulated by the police, by your lawyer, by everyone around you.
I forgive you.
I know you still love me. Somewhere deep down, you do. And I still love you. I’ll always love you. And I’ll always love our daughter.
They think they’ve won. They think they’ve locked me away and that’s the end of it. But they don’t know what I know. They don’t know the truth about what really happened in that house. About the things you did. The things you made Sophie do.
The trial is going to be very different from the custody hearing, Lena. Voss has something planned. Something big. Evidence that will blow this whole case wide open. Evidence that will prove once and for all that I’m innocent… and that you’re the monster everyone thinks I am.
Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. Because soon, you’re going to be the one in a cell. And I’m going to be the one holding our daughter, telling her how much her mommy loved her… even if she was sick.
See you in court.
Forever yours,
Mark
I dropped the letter on the kitchen table.
My mom came in and saw my face.
“Lena? What is it?”
I handed her the letter. She read it, her face growing darker with every line.
“That sick son of a bitch,” she whispered. “What evidence is he talking about? There is no evidence. You’re innocent.”
But I was already cold all over.
Because I knew Mark.
He never made empty threats.
If he said he had evidence… he had something.
May you like
Something terrible.
And I had no idea what it could be.
