Chapter 11
The room seemed to spin.
"Escaped?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ryan heard me and pulled back, his face going pale.
Detective Alvarez continued on the phone. "It happened during the morning transfer. Two guards were injured. They think he had help on the inside. We're setting up roadblocks, searching the area, but..."
"But what?"
"He's had months to plan this, Claire. And he still has connections. Money. People who are loyal to him. He could be anywhere by now."
I looked at Emma, sleeping peacefully on the couch. "Is he coming for us?"
"We don't know," Detective Alvarez said honestly. "But we have to assume he might. I'm sending a protection detail to your office and your home. Don't go anywhere alone. Keep Emma with you at all times. If you see anything suspicious—anything at all—call me immediately."
"I will," I said.
I hung up the phone.
"Daniel escaped," I told Ryan.
His face hardened. He walked over to the couch and picked up Emma, who stirred but didn't wake. He held her close, his eyes dark with fear and rage.
"He won't get near her," Ryan said. "I won't let him."
The next few hours were a blur of activity.
Police officers arrived at our office, securing the building. More officers were sent to our apartment. Detective Alvarez came herself, bringing with her a team of U.S. Marshals—Daniel's escape had elevated the case to a federal matter.
"We're going to find him," Detective Alvarez said, spreading out a map of the city on our conference table. "But we need you to be careful. Daniel is desperate. And desperate people do desperate things."
"What about Caleb?" I asked suddenly. "Could he have helped Daniel escape? They hate each other now, but they used to be partners."
Detective Alvarez shook her head. "Caleb's still in maximum security. No contact with the outside. We checked."
"Then who?" Ryan asked. "Who would help Daniel? Everyone who was loyal to him is either in prison or has turned against him."
"Not everyone," I said quietly. "Margaret might be in prison, but she still has connections. People who owe her favors. People who are scared of her even from behind bars."
It made sense. Margaret was many things, but she was not powerless. Even in prison, she could pull strings.
"We'll look into it," Detective Alvarez said. "In the meantime, I want you two and Emma moved to a safe house. Somewhere off the grid. Somewhere Daniel won't think to look."
We agreed.
That night, we were driven to a small, secure house on the outskirts of the city. It was modest, nothing like the penthouses and mansions we were used to, but it was safe. Protected.
The Marshals swept the house, installed extra security, and gave us a briefing on what to do if Daniel showed up.
"Don't try to be heroes," the lead Marshal said. "If he comes, lock yourselves in the safe room and call us. We'll be here in minutes."
We nodded.
After the Marshals left, Ryan and I sat in the living room, Emma asleep between us on the couch. The house was quiet, too quiet.
"He's going to come for us, isn't he?" Ryan said.
"Probably," I said. "Daniel has nothing left to lose. His family is destroyed. His company is gone. He's in prison for life. The only thing he has left is revenge."
"Then we'll be ready," Ryan said.
But I wasn't so sure.
Daniel knew us. He knew our habits, our weaknesses, the people we cared about. He was a Whitmore—ruthless, intelligent, and patient. He would wait for the right moment. He would strike where we were most vulnerable.
And our most vulnerable point was Emma.
The next week passed in a state of constant tension.
We received daily updates from the Marshals and Detective Alvarez. They had found Daniel's abandoned car twenty miles from the prison. They had received tips from all over the country—none of them panned out. Daniel seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Meanwhile, we tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy.
I worked remotely, running the Bennett Group from the safe house. Ryan did the same. We played with Emma, read to her, tried to make her life as normal as possible.
But the stress was getting to us.
We snapped at each other over small things. We had trouble sleeping. Every noise in the night made us jump.
One evening, after a particularly difficult day, we got into a fight.
"You're being too careful," Ryan said, frustrated. "We can't live like this forever. Hiding in a house, scared of our own shadows."
"And what do you suggest we do?" I shot back. "Go back to our old lives? Pretend Daniel isn't out there, hunting us? He wants to kill us, Ryan. He wants to hurt Emma."
"I know that!" Ryan ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. "But I can't breathe in here. I feel like I'm back in my parents' house, walking on eggshells, waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"That's exactly what we're doing," I said, my voice quieter now. "But this time, it's not just our lives on the line. It's Emma's. I will not let anything happen to her, Ryan. Not if I can help it."
Ryan looked at me, and the anger drained from his face. He came over and sat beside me, taking my hands in his.
"I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm scared. Scared I'll fail you. Scared I'll fail her."
"You won't," I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. "We're in this together. Remember?"
"Always," he said, kissing the top of my head.
We sat in silence for a long time, holding each other.
And then, the phone rang.
It was Harrison.
"Claire," he said, his voice strained. "I just received something. A package. No return address."
My heart skipped a beat. "What's in it?"
"A DVD," Harrison said. "And a note. The note says... the note says 'For Claire.'"
"Don't watch it alone," I said. "Call Detective Alvarez. Let her handle it."
"I already called her," Harrison said. "She's on her way. But Claire... the postmark. It's from the city. He's here. Daniel is in the city."
I felt cold.
"Stay inside," I said. "Lock your doors. Don't open it for anyone except Detective Alvarez or the Marshals."
"I will," Harrison said. "Claire... be careful. He's not the boy I raised anymore. He's something else now. Something dangerous."
"I know," I said. "We will."
I hung up the phone.
Ryan looked at me, questioningly.
"Daniel sent Harrison a package," I said. "A DVD. For me."
Ryan's face darkened. "What do you think is on it?"
I thought about Daniel. About his hatred. About his need for revenge.
"I think," I said slowly, "it's a message. A warning. Or maybe... a challenge."
Whatever it was, one thing was clear.
May you like
Daniel Whitmore was done hiding.
And the game was about to begin.
