Chapter 11 - The Trap Inside Mia’s Home
Police reached Mia’s apartment before the signal.
Nothing moved inside the building.
Kyle’s live location stopped in the underground garage.
Reed ordered Mia to stay in the command vehicle while officers searched every floor.
Nora sat beside her with a bandage across her forehead. The gunshot at the station had struck a light fixture, sending glass down onto the platform.
“You made an agreement with Kyle,” Mia said.
Nora closed her eyes.
“He contacted me after we found the airfield photograph.”
“And you did not tell me.”
“He said my father would die if the police became involved.”
“The police were already involved.”
“I thought I could get the location.”
“You agreed to bring me to them.”
“I never intended to do it.”
“But you let them believe you would.”
“Yes.”
Mia looked through the windshield at the building.
“Did you enter my apartment?”
“No.”
“Did you leave my mother’s letter?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
“I don’t know.”
The radio crackled.
Officers had found Kyle’s phone attached beneath Mia’s car.
The moving signal had been a diversion.
Reed cursed.
“Where would he go?” Mia asked.
Nora looked at her.
“The trust hearing.”
A court hearing had been scheduled for the next morning to freeze every asset connected to Mercer Family Holdings.
If Kyle destroyed the original trust records or prevented Mia from appearing, he might delay the freeze.
“He doesn’t need the apartment,” Nora said. “He needs the photograph.”
Mia felt suddenly cold.
“The original is in my office.”
Police units turned toward downtown.
Mia’s office occupied the twenty-second floor of a glass building. Kyle had visited twice before and knew which elevator reached the executive level.
Security cameras showed him entering through the loading dock wearing a maintenance uniform.
By the time officers arrived, he was inside Mia’s office.
The door had been forced open.
Files covered the floor.
The framed graduation photograph had been broken.
The summer picnic photograph was gone.
Kyle was not there.
Mia walked to the window.
A maintenance platform hung outside the neighboring office.
The window was open.
Reed ordered officers to search the construction floors below.
Nora examined the damaged frame.
“He knew which photograph to take.”
“He must have heard us at the lake house.”
“Or someone told him.”
Mia thought of the officers, investigators, dealership employees, and attorneys who had handled evidence.
Someone continued feeding Kyle information.
The desk phone rang.
Mia answered.
Kyle’s voice was calm.
“You should have paid the car statement.”
“Where are Thomas and Evelyn?”
“Still alive.”
“Prove it.”
“Open your email.”
A new message contained a photograph.
Thomas and the woman sat at a table holding that day’s newspaper.
The woman’s face was visible.
Mia stared at it.
Age had changed Evelyn, but not enough to erase her.
Her mother was alive.
Evelyn looked directly at the camera.
A bruise darkened one side of her face, but her expression was controlled.
On the table, her fingers formed a pattern.
Four fingers open.
One closed.
Seven open.
Eight closed.
The numbers from the photograph.
Kyle spoke again.
“Tomorrow morning, you will attend the trust hearing. You will state that the allegations were a misunderstanding. You will withdraw the fraud complaint and grant me permanent administrative authority.”
“And then?”
“You will receive the location.”
“You expect me to trust you?”
“No. I expect you to want your mother more than you want justice.”
Mia studied Evelyn’s hands.
The sequence did not match the original exactly.
4 - 17 - 8 - 22 - 31.
Her mother was communicating.
Four.
One and seven.
Eight.
She moved to the next number.
Two fingers on one hand.
Two on the other.
Then three.
Then one.
The complete sequence.
Mia entered it into the archived insurance portal.
An encrypted page opened.
One sentence appeared.
THE ACCOUNT OPENS ONLY WHEN MIA REFUSES THE FAMILY.
Below it was an audio file.
Evelyn’s voice began to play.
“If you are hearing this, Kyle has asked you to choose between me and your freedom.”
May you like
Mia stopped breathing.
“Do not choose me.”
