Chapter 8 - THE SECOND DISAPPEARANCE
Ethan did not remember leaving the bank.
He remembered Detective Ortiz speaking into three phones.
He remembered Nora gripping the letter Amelia had written to Sophie.
He remembered the drive north as rain covered the highway.
Every state officer between Manhattan and Vermont received Sophie’s photograph.
Border authorities were alerted.
Private airfields were locked down.
Saint Agatha’s Institute denied knowing Sophie Whitmore.
Its director denied any connection to Blackstone Legacy Services.
Detective Ortiz did not believe him.
The institute stood behind high stone walls on the southern edge of Lake Champlain.
Officially, it was an exclusive therapeutic boarding school.
Its students came from wealthy families around the world.
Several children from Blackstone’s client list had been sent there.
Most remained enrolled under changed surnames.
Ethan understood the purpose.
Saint Agatha’s did not simply educate children.
It hid heirs while adults controlled their money.
A traffic camera captured a gray van leaving the psychologist’s neighborhood.
The plate belonged to Graham Pike’s law firm.
The van traveled north.
It stopped at a service station near Albany.
Security footage showed Lydia entering the store.
A child sat in the rear seat beside Detective Ortiz’s sister.
Neither appeared physically harmed.
Lydia had taken them as leverage.
Celeste needed Sophie alive and cooperative.
She also needed the photograph.
Ethan still possessed it.
His phone received a message from an unknown number.
Bring the photograph and the bank key to the old Whitmore boathouse at eleven.
No police.
Your daughter comes home.
Detective Ortiz read the message.
“They want us to think Sophie is at the boathouse.”
“She won’t be.”
“Then we use the meeting to find out where she is.”
Ethan stared through the rain.
“I should never have left her.”
“You left her with a police officer and a psychologist.”
“You made a reasonable decision.”
“Celeste has been predicting my reasonable decisions for two years.”
Detective Ortiz did not argue.
At ten fifty-five, Ethan entered the abandoned boathouse alone.
He carried Amelia’s photograph in his coat.
The silver bank key had been replaced with a copy.
Detective Ortiz and her team waited beyond the tree line.
The boathouse contained an old motorboat, empty fuel cans, and rotting furniture.
A television had been placed on a workbench.
The screen turned on.
Celeste appeared live from an unknown room.
Sophie sat beside her.
The child looked frightened but uninjured.
Detective Ortiz’s sister sat several feet away.
Richard stood near the door.
Celeste smiled.
“You finally read Amelia’s message.”
“Let Sophie go.”
“Place the photograph and key on the table.”
“Where are you?”
“That is not part of the exchange.”
Ethan held up the photograph.
“You cannot access the accounts without Sophie’s trust authorization.”
“We no longer need the original trust.”
“Pike has a court order recognizing my guardianship.”
“It is forged.”
“By the time anyone proves that, we will be gone.”
Sophie looked toward the camera.
“Daddy, they’re near water.”
Celeste grabbed her shoulder.
Sophie continued.
“I can hear bells.”
The screen went black.
Ethan placed nothing on the table.
He left the boathouse.
Detective Ortiz replayed the audio.
Three deep bells could be heard behind Celeste’s voice.
A ferry horn sounded immediately afterward.
There was only one location near Saint Agatha’s where a chapel bell rang three times before the Lake Champlain ferry departed.
The abandoned Convent of Saint Martha.
It stood on an island less than two miles from the institute.
Before the team could move, the old motorboat engine started by itself.
Flames spread beneath the fuel compartment.
Someone had rigged the boathouse to burn.
May you like
The doors slammed shut.
Ethan and Detective Ortiz were trapped inside.
