Chapter 9 - THE BOY IN THE GARAGE
His name was Noah Bellamy.
Margaret’s sixteen-year-old grandson.
He had visited the blue house secretly for months, bringing Clara library books and letting her use his phone when Margaret was too frightened to help.
On the wedding morning, Noah had left a service gate unlocked.
Clara carried Mia out before sunrise.
They walked two miles, then a woman driving a bakery van took them to a bus station after Clara showed her Adrian’s photograph.
Noah stayed behind to slow Dane down.
“He said he’d be okay,” Clara whispered.
He wasn’t.
Victoria sent Adrian a photograph ten minutes later.
Noah was tied to a chair inside an aircraft hangar.
Adrian handed the phone to Ortiz.
“She wants me alone.”
“She’s getting a tactical team.”
“No uniforms near the airfield,” Victoria texted seconds later. “Or the boy dies.”
Ortiz stared at the message.
“She has eyes on us.”
Marcus scanned the road, rooftops, passing vehicles.
Adrian looked at Clara.
She was trying not to cry.
“Bring him back,” she said.
“I will.”
This time he did not promise to go alone.
At Mercer Airfield, Adrian drove through the front gate in his own car while Ortiz’s team approached through a wooded service road.
Victoria stood inside Hangar Three wearing black pants and the top half of her wedding dress under a coat.
Noah sat behind her.
Dane held a gun against his shoulder.
“You destroyed my life,” Victoria said.
Adrian laughed once, without humor.
“No. Clara walked into a room and showed everyone what you built it on.”
Victoria held up a leather book.
The ledger.
“Sign the trust amendment, and the boy leaves.”
“The wedding didn’t happen.”
“Then we fix that too.”
She produced another document.
A marriage certificate.
Already signed with Adrian’s forged signature.
And stamped by a county clerk.
Adrian stared at it.
May you like
Victoria smiled.
“As far as the state is concerned, we’re already married.”
