Chapter 5 - Noah's Secret Route)
Noah was gone.
Mark learned that twenty-three minutes later.
His mother-in-law, Patricia, met police at the front door wearing slippers and a bathrobe.
“He was upstairs ten minutes ago.”
Officers searched the house.
Empty.
Back door unlocked.
Fence gate open.
No signs of forced entry.
Mark's chest felt like it was being crushed.
Then Patricia remembered something.
“He said he needed his backpack.”
“What backpack?” Mark demanded.
“The green one.”
Mark knew exactly which one.
Noah had left it at home after school.
He had asked Patricia to drive him back to get it.
She refused.
She told him they could retrieve it later.
Mark looked at Detective Coleman.
“He came here.”
They raced back to the Bennett house.
The police tape remained across the kitchen entrance.
The vent opening was empty.
Coleman checked upstairs.
Mark checked Noah's bedroom.
Nothing.
Then he saw the closet door.
Inside, on the floor, were two pieces of sandwich bread.
Mark crouched.
A trail.
Noah had left a trail.
He followed crumbs into the hallway.
Down the stairs.
Through the kitchen.
To the pantry.
Then the crumbs stopped near the exposed wall cavity.
Mark stared inside.
Coleman joined him.
“Noah?”
No answer.
Mark grabbed a flashlight.
He pushed into the cavity.
Behind the narrow space where Abigail had been found was another panel.
A thin plywood section almost invisible in the darkness.
Mark pressed against it.
It moved.
Behind it was a crawlspace running beneath the pantry and toward the garage.
Coleman called for officers.
Mark crawled forward.
Ten feet.
Fifteen.
Then he found Noah's backpack.
Empty.
Beside it was a folded piece of paper.
Mark opened it.
Dad,
I heard Mrs. Lauren talking last night.
She said the bad man would move Ava before morning.
I think I know where.
Don't be mad.
Noah.
Mark nearly screamed.
Coleman took the note.
“How would he know?”
Mark remembered something.
“Noah asked Abigail questions while we were at the hospital.”
“What questions?”
“Where she lived. What she saw.”
Coleman grabbed her phone.
At the hospital, Abigail sat upright when Mark entered.
“Where did Noah go?”
Mark tried to remain calm.
“We're looking for him.”
Her face tightened.
“I told him about the red stairs.”
“What else?”
“A train.”
Mark leaned closer.
“What train?”
“The house shook when trains went past.”
Coleman was already searching maps.
Abigail continued.
“There was a yellow tower outside the little window.”
“A tower?”
She nodded.
“And bells.”
Mark looked at Coleman.
She brought up a map of industrial areas near railway lines.
Three possibilities.
Then Abigail said one more thing.
“Uncle Vic called it Briar.”
Coleman's eyes snapped toward Mark.
“Briar Road.”
They left immediately.
Briar Road ran beside an old freight line outside town.
Abandoned warehouses.
Small rental houses.
A church with a yellow bell tower three blocks away.
Police surrounded the area.
They found the house within fifteen minutes.
Red-painted stairs.
Dark windows.
Front door unlocked.
Noah's jacket lay on the porch.
Mark tried to enter.
Coleman held him back.
“Let us clear it.”
Officers went inside.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Then the radio crackled.
“House clear.”
No Noah.
But inside the basement they found something else.
A room with children's drawings taped to the walls.
A mattress.
Several toys.
A camera.
And photographs.
Hundreds of photographs.
Abigail growing from a toddler into a little girl.
Victor standing beside her in some.
Unknown adults in others.
Mark felt sick.
On a desk lay a stack of identity documents.
Different names.
Different birth dates.
All bearing Abigail's photograph.
Coleman found a laptop.
Beside it was Noah's smartwatch.
The screen had been cracked.
Mark picked it up.
“He was here.”
Coleman nodded.
Then an officer shouted from upstairs.
They found blood.
A tiny smear on the window frame.
Mark's vision blurred.
Coleman inspected it.
“Could be from a scraped hand.”
Mark could barely hear her.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Coleman gestured for silence.
Mark answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice spoke.
Calm.
Almost friendly.
“Mark Bennett.”
Mark knew immediately.
Victor Hale.
“You have something that belongs to me.”
Mark gripped the phone.
“You took my son.”
“Noah invited himself into a situation beyond his understanding.”
“If you touch him—”
“Listen carefully.”
Victor's voice remained calm.
“You have Michael's safe-deposit box.”
Mark looked at Coleman.
She nodded.
Play along.
Victor continued.
“Bring me everything from it.”
“Where?”
“I'll tell you.”
“I want to hear Noah.”
A pause.
Then Noah's voice came through.
“Dad?”
Mark closed his eyes.
“I'm here.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be sorry.”
Victor took the phone again.
“One hour.”
The call ended.
Mark lowered the phone.
Coleman said, “We'll trace it.”
Mark looked at Noah's broken watch.
Then he noticed something.
A tiny green light was still blinking beneath the cracked screen.
GPS.
Mark pressed the side button.
The screen flickered.
A location appeared for one second before dying.
Briar Industrial Storage.
Unit 214.
May you like
Mark looked at Coleman.
“I know where he is.”
