Chapter 4 - The Voice on the Line
"Melissa!" I lunged toward the phone, but Chris grabbed my shoulder, holding me back while pointing sternly at the recording device attached to his desk system.
"Where are you?" I demanded into the speaker. "Where are you, Melissa? Sarah is with us! She has stitches on her head! Do you have any idea what you did to her?!"
A wet sob echoed through the line. "Jamie... oh God, Jamie, is she okay? Is Sarah safe?"
"She’s alive," I snapped, my voice shaking with rage and tears. "No thanks to you or your mother. You left her on the driveway like trash!"
"I didn't have a choice!" Melissa cried out, her voice breaking into hysterical gasps. "They were in the house, Jamie! Two men broke through the back patio doors at midnight! They had guns. They said if I didn't give them the primary ledger, they were going to wait until you got home from Minneapolis and kill both of you in front of Sarah!"
"So you gave your eight-year-old child to the rain?!"
"I told her to run to Carolyn’s!" Melissa sobbed. "I told her to hide behind the hedge until I drove off with them! I thought if they saw me leave in my car, they would follow me and leave the house empty! I locked the front door so the men couldn't go out the front to chase her! I didn't know she fell, Jamie! I swear to God I didn't know she was hurt!"
Chris leaned down toward the microphone, his tone ice cold and professional. "Melissa, this is Chris. Where are you right now?"
"I'm... I'm on Route 41, heading north toward Wisconsin," she stammered. "They have my mother. Victor Vance’s men took Norma from her house two hours ago. They’re holding her at the old grain silo facility near Kenosha. Vance said if I don't bring the flash drive by 9:00 a.m., he’s going to execute Norma and send the wire-fraud files to the FBI with Jamie’s signature forged on every document."
I looked at the clock on Chris’s wall. 7:45 a.m. We had little over an hour.
"Melissa," Chris said firmly. "Where is the flash drive now?"
"I... I thought I had it in my purse," she wept. "But when I searched my bag in the gas station bathroom twenty minutes ago, it was gone. I realized... I hid it in Sarah’s backpack yesterday afternoon when I thought they were watching the house."
"We have the drive," Chris said.
A loud gasp came from the other end. "You have it? Chris, you have to bring it to Kenosha! Please! They’re going to kill my mother!"
Chris looked at me, his eyes dead serious. "Melissa, listen to me very carefully. You are not going to Kenosha alone. Pull over at the rest stop near mile marker 82. Park near the commercial truck scales. Do not talk to anyone. We will be there in thirty minutes."
"Chris... don't bring Jamie. Vance will—"
"Jamie is coming," Chris cut her off with absolute authority. "Because it’s his family you’ve dragged into hell. Stay put."
Chris slammed the receiver down, immediately grabbing his coat and reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulled out a heavy black leather holster containing a compact 9mm Glock.
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"What are you doing?" I asked, my heart pounding.
"I’m an officer of the court, Jamie," Chris said, sliding the holster onto his belt behind his spine. "But before I passed the bar, I spent four years in the Marine Corps Infantry. And nobody hurts my niece."
