Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Harrison
Inside Harrison’s vaulted living room, the tension was thick enough to suffocate. Harrison sat behind his desk, his face sweating profusely as Arthur Vance—who had flown in to join us—laid out the wire transfer records from Claire to the adoption agency, along with the medical records proving Megan had given birth to triplets, not twins.
"I didn't know it was an extortion case," Harrison pleaded, his hands shaking as he poured himself a drink. "Judge Whitmore told me the mother was a surrogate who wanted to back out of a contract. He said everything was legally cleared! My wife and I... we’ve been trying to conceive for seven years, Rowan. When the judge offered this placement, we thought it was a miracle."
"A miracle built on a mother’s torment," Megan said, her voice cold as ice. She was sitting on the couch, holding the baby boy—our Ethan—against her chest. The moment Harrison had let her hold him, the baby had stopped crying, settling into her warmth as if his little body remembered the rhythm of her heart.
"Harrison," I said, leaning over his desk. "I understand you were deceived by the Whitmores. But right now, you have a choice. You can either fight this in a federal court, lose your license, go to prison as a co-conspirator in a child abduction ring, and have your name dragged through the mud... or you can hand over the child, sign a full affidavit detailing Judge Whitmore's involvement, and help us destroy them."
Harrison looked across the room at his wife, who had walked into the foyer, weeping silently as she realized the truth. He looked back at me, a broken, defeated man.
"The judge kept the original adoption log in his private safe at the country club in Franklin," Harrison whispered. "He told me he keeps it there because the club’s security is private, and the federal marshals can't raid it without a highly specific warrant that he would see coming. It contains the signatures of the agency director and Claire’s explicit authorization to transfer the child."
I stood up, adjusting my jacket. "Arthur, get his affidavit signed and notarized. Megan, let's take our son home."
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As we walked out of the Buckhead mansion with Ethan wrapped securely in a clean blanket, I called Marcus Vance.
"Marcus, the trap is set. I need you to orchestrate a minor 'security breach' at the Franklin Country Club tonight. We need what's inside Judge Whitmore's safe."
