Chapter 6 - Whispers in the Dark
The atmosphere inside the resort suite changed in an instant from quiet contemplation to high-alert tactical response. Deputy Torres materialized from the adjoining room, his weapon drawn, directing Emily and Dani into the master bathroom—the interior room with no external windows.
"Stay down, keep the door locked from the inside, and do not open it for anyone except me or Ramsey," Torres commanded, his voice steady and cold.
Emily pulled Dani into the oversized bathtub, covering her daughter's body with her own. Dani was trembling, her thumb wedged tightly in her mouth—a habit she had abandoned years ago.
"Mommy, what's happening?" Dani whimpered against Emily's shoulder. "Is it bad men?"
"Shh, baby, listen to me," Emily whispered fiercely, kissing her daughter's hair. "The officers are outside. Dad is outside. We are completely safe in here. Just close your eyes and count to a hundred with me."
Outside the bathroom, Brian stood in the center of the living room, his hands sweating, his heart hammering against his ribs. The familiar, sickening knot of panic that had governed his life for three years tightened in his stomach.
"Harper, get behind the kitchen counter and stay low," Deputy Ramsey ordered, taking up a position near the front door, her eyes fixed on the door handle.
A heavy silence fell over the suite, broken only by the hum of the air conditioner. Then came a sharp, rhythmic knock on the door—three short bursts, followed by a pause, then two longer knocks.
Torres relaxed slightly, lowering his weapon. "It's the regional response unit."
Torres unbolted the door and opened it three inches. A tall man in a dark tactical vest holding a secure tablet stood outside.
"Deputy Torres?" the officer asked. "We swept the north perimeter. The sensor trip was caused by a stray dog crossing the fence line. But we checked the unregistered vehicle in the drive."
"And?" Torres demanded.
"It belongs to a private investigator licensed in Florida," the officer reported, showing his tablet screen. "Name is Marcus Thorne. He was hired three days ago by a Chicago law firm to track down a missing person."
Brian stepped out from behind the counter, his face pale. "Chicago law firm? Which one?"
The officer read from the screen. "Kline & Associates."
Brian turned slowly to look at Torres. "Marla Kline's firm."
Emily opened the bathroom door, having heard the exchange. She stepped out into the living room, her face tight with confusion and anger. "Marla hired a private investigator to follow us?"
"I'll call her right now," Emily said, pulling out her phone with shaking fingers.
She dialed Marla’s direct line. It rang four times before going to voicemail. Emily dialed again immediately. On the third attempt, Marla picked up, sounding out of breath.
"Emily! Are you okay?" Marla asked.
"Marla, why is a private investigator named Marcus Thorne sitting outside our secure resort in Florida?" Emily demanded without preamble.
Silence hung on the line for three long seconds.
"Emily... listen to me very carefully," Marla said, her voice tight and hushed. "I didn't hire Marcus Thorne. I found out two hours ago that someone in my office cleared a retainer using my digital signature. Someone used my law firm's official credentials to run a locator check on your mobile phone GPS and track your location from Miami to Fort Lauderdale."
Emily's blood ran cold. "Who, Marla? Who cleared it?"
"My junior partner, Julian Vance," Marla whispered.
Brian's head snapped up at the sound of the name. "Vance?" Brian shouted toward the phone. "Victor Vance's son?"
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"Victor Vance... the head of Apex Logistics?" Emily gasped, holding the phone away in horror.
"Julian Vance joined my practice two years ago," Marla said, her voice shaking with panic. "I had no idea he was Victor Vance's estranged son! He used a false middle name! Emily, he knows Brian is alive! He knows where you are!"
