Chapter 7 - The Confrontation at the Central Branch
Meanwhile, at the Seattle Public Library, the trap had already sprung, but not in the way we had planned.
I sat in the back of a black SUV parked across the street from the library’s massive glass facade, watching through binoculars. Daniel was in the driver's seat, his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, his eyes scanning the street.
"He’s here," Daniel said, pointing toward a silver Ford sedan that had just pulled illegally into the bus zone.
Martin Ellison stepped out of the vehicle. He didn't look like a retired detective; he looked like a soldier preparing for battle. His coat was unbuttoned, revealing the distinct outline of a concealed firearm at his hip. His eyes were sharp, scanning the plaza, the entrance, the windows.
He walked into the library with quick, purposeful strides.
"We have three undercover officers inside," Daniel whispered into his earpiece. "Do not engage. Just monitor. Let him realize she’s not there."
Through the glass, I saw Martin reach the third floor. He walked toward the history section, his head turning left and right. When he reached the aisle I had specified, he stopped.
The aisle was empty.
Martin stood there for several seconds, his posture rigid. Then, he pulled out his phone.
My burner phone buzzed in my hand.
"Answer it," Daniel said. "Keep him on the line."
I pressed the button, my heart hammering in my ears. "Dad?"
"You're not here, Claire," Martin said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "The library is empty. The history section is empty. Where are you?"
"I... I got scared, Dad," I stammered, trying to keep the panic in my voice realistic, though at this point, it required very little acting. "I saw a man in a dark coat watching me. I ran out. I’m in a taxi."
"You're lying," Martin said.
The coldness in his voice made me freeze.
"I taught you how to lie, Claire," he continued, his voice soft, almost affectionate, but laced with a lethal promise. "You have a little tic in your voice when you're hiding something. You breathe just a second too long before you answer. You aren't in a taxi. And you aren't scared of some man in a coat. You’re working with them, aren't you? With Margaret Shaw. With the Vance family."
I couldn't speak. The silence on the line was deafening.
"I gave you everything," Martin whispered, and for the first time, I heard a crack in his armor—a sliver of genuine, twisted heartbreak. "I gave you a life. I loved you more than my own soul, Claire. And you threw me to the wolves."
"You killed my parents," I whispered, the words finally breaking past my fear. "You left them to die in the mud and you took me like a piece of evidence. You aren't my father, Martin. You're my kidnapper."
A long pause stretched over the airwaves.
"I should have left you in the car," Martin said, his voice flat and empty.
The line went dead.
"Daniel!" I gasped, turning to him. "He knows. He’s going back to the hospital. He’s going to get Elaine."
"Luis and Sarah are already out," Daniel said, slamming the SUV into drive. "But we have a bigger problem. Martin’s vehicle just sped out of the parking zone. He’s not heading toward the hospital. He’s heading toward the Pierce County municipal records office in Tacoma."
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"Why?" I asked, bewildered.
"Because the only copy of your forged birth certificate that hasn't been digitized yet is stored in their physical archives," Daniel said, his face grim. "And Arthur Pendelton, the clerk who helped him, still works there. Martin is going to destroy the evidence."
