Chapter 8 - The Midnight Transfer
The side gate of the industrial compound creaked softly as it swung open into the dark alleyway.
Carmen stumbled through the gap, clutching a heavy black leather handbag against her red dress. She looked exhausted, her hair wild, her makeup smeared across her wrinkled cheeks. She looked behind her every two seconds, terrified that a flash of gunfire would erupt from the second-floor windows.
Ray Chavez stepped out of the shadows of the alley, opening the rear door of an unmarked black SUV.
"In," Ray said, pointing to the leather seat.
Carmen practically threw herself into the vehicle. I sat in the front passenger seat, turning around to face her as Ray slid into the driver’s seat and hit the accelerator, quietly pulling out into the Phoenix night.
Carmen stared at me, her hands clutching her purse like a shield.
"Zayden..." she stammered, her eyes darting to my face, searching for a trace of the obedient, dutiful son she had manipulated for thirty-four years. "You... you saved me. I knew you still loved your mother. I knew you couldn't let those horrible men hurt me—"
"Shut up, Carmen," I said, my voice so cold it made her instantly lock her jaw.
I reached out my hand. "The USB drive."
Trembling, she reached into her purse, pulled out a small silver-and-black flash drive, and dropped it into my open palm.
"And the confession," I added, pointing to a clipboard resting on the seat beside her, prepared by Marcus Vance hours earlier. It detailed every act of physical abuse, extortion, financial theft, and false imprisonment she had inflicted on Jessica and Olivia over the past twelve months.
Carmen looked at the paper, her lower lip quivering. "If I sign this... I’ll go to prison, Zayden! I’m sixty-two years old! My knees—"
"If you sign it," I interrupted, staring straight into her soul, "you go to a minimum-security state facility with a federal witness protection tag, where Julian Rossi’s men can't touch you. If you don't sign it, Ray stops this car right here on 27th Avenue, drops you on the sidewalk, and calls Rossi’s phone."
Carmen looked at the dark street outside the window, then at the pen in Ray’s cup holder.
She grabbed the pen with a shaky hand and signed her name at the bottom of the three-page document.
"It’s done," she sobbed, throwing the clipboard onto the floor. "Are you happy now?! You ruined my life! I raised you! I sacrificed everything for you after your father died!"
"You sacrificed nothing," I said, turning back toward the windshield as the SUV accelerated toward downtown Phoenix. "You used me as a paycheck, you used my wife as a maid, and you used my daughter as a punching bag. You aren't my mother anymore, Carmen. You’re just a state witness in a federal extortion case."
At 1:00 AM, we arrived at the back entrance of the Phoenix Police Department Central Station.
Detective Vance and two federal marshals were waiting in the secure loading bay. As Ray pulled the SUV to a stop, the marshals opened the rear doors, pulling Carmen out of the vehicle and placing heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists.
"Carmen Ferris," Detective Vance announced, reading from a white folder. "You are under arrest for federal conspiracy to commit grand theft, wire fraud, child endangerment, and felony domestic abuse."
Carmen turned her head back toward the car, crying hysterically as the marshals led her toward the heavy double doors.
"Zayden! Don't let them take me! Zayden! Tell them I’m your mother!"
I didn't answer. I didn't even look back as the heavy steel doors slammed shut behind her, cutting off her shrieks forever.
I turned to Detective Vance, handing him the silver USB drive and the signed three-page confession.
"Everything you need to arrest Julian Rossi is on that drive, Detective," I said. "Bank accounts, wire transfers, and the names of his accomplices in San Diego."
Detective Vance looked at the flash drive, then handed me a pen. "Sign the evidence transfer log, Mr. Ferris."
I signed my name firmly at the bottom of the form.
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"What happens to Rossi now?" I asked.
Detective Vance smiled—a cold, satisfied grin. "A federal SWAT team is staging at the Scottsdale armory right now. We execute the warrant on 27th Avenue in twenty minutes. Julian Rossi won't even have time to pour his next whiskey."
