Chapter 17
The next few months were tense.
The FBI searched for Richard.
They checked airports.
Border crossings.
Safe houses.
Business associates.
Family members.
But Richard Holloway had vanished like smoke.
It was like he’d never existed.
The police told us he’d probably fled the country.
That he was living somewhere in South America or Europe, off the millions he’d stashed in offshore accounts.
That we were safe.
But I didn’t feel safe.
I knew Richard.
I knew he wouldn’t just run.
Not when there was still revenge to be had.
Not when he still believed I’d taken everything from him.
I increased security at the house.
I hired bodyguards.
I drove Chloe to and from school every day.
I never let her out of my sight.
But life had to go on.
Chloe turned thirteen.
We had a party.
Her friends came.
There was cake and ice cream and laughter.
For a day, everything felt normal.
Lila moved into her own apartment.
It was small, but it was hers.
She was still with the man from the bookstore.
His name was Tom.
He was nice.
He was good to her.
And he accepted Chloe as his own.
I was happy for her.
But I also missed her.
The house felt emptier without her.
And then, six months after Richard had vanished, I got a call.
It was from the FBI.
“We found him,” the agent said.
My heart skipped a beat.
“Where?”
“Panama. He’s been living there under an assumed name. We’re working with the Panamanian authorities to extradite him. It could take a while, but… we got him, Dr. Mercer. He’s not going anywhere.”
Relief flooded through me.
Richard was caught.
He was going to be brought back to face justice.
We were finally safe.
I told Chloe.
She cried.
Tears of relief.
Tears of joy.
“Really?” she asked. “He’s really caught?”
“Really, baby. He’s going to go to prison for a very long time. Just like his son.”
She threw her arms around me.
And for the first time in months, I felt like I could really breathe.
The extradition process took three months.
But finally, Richard Holloway was brought back to the United States.
He was arraigned on multiple charges—witness tampering, conspiracy to kidnap, attempted murder, and more.
He pled not guilty.
His trial was scheduled for six months later.
Mara told me we had a strong case.
The man who’d been caught at the camp had agreed to testify against Richard in exchange for a reduced sentence.
We had the evidence from the SUV.
We had the note.
We had the dead dog.
We had the threats.
Richard was going down.
And this time, he was going down for good.
But I should have known.
The Holloways don’t go down without taking someone with them.
Two weeks before Richard’s trial was set to begin, I got a package at the hospital.
It was addressed to me.
Personal and confidential.
I opened it in my office.
Inside was a USB drive.
And a note.
It said: Watch this. Before you testify.
I put the drive into my computer.
A video started playing.
It was security footage.
From our old house.
From the night Chloe was injured.
The footage showed the hallway by the stairs.
Chloe was running.
Grant was chasing her.
He grabbed her arm.
She tripped.
She fell down the stairs.
Grant stood at the top, looking down at her.
And then he did something I hadn’t seen before.
Something that made my blood run cold.
He kicked her.
Hard.
In the head.
While she was already unconscious at the bottom of the stairs.
The video ended.
I stared at the screen in horror.
Grant had done more than just chase her.
He’d kicked her.
While she was down.
He’d tried to kill her.
Right there on the stairs.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
Because as the camera panned, just for a second, I saw something else.
Someone else.
Standing in the shadows of the doorway.
Watching.
Me.
May you like
I was there.
I was in the house.
