Chapter 10 - THE WEDDING VIDEO
The FBI retrieved our wedding drive shortly before midnight.
It was found inside a fireproof box beneath Daniel’s desk, exactly where we had stored it for fifteen years.
Forensic technicians created several copies before examining the original. The visible portion contained our wedding ceremony, speeches, and reception.
I watched myself walk down the aisle toward Daniel.
I was twenty-five, smiling, certain I understood the man waiting for me.
Patricia sat in the front row wearing pale gold.
Samuel stood behind her.
Near the sound equipment was a younger Warren Silas, though I had not known his name then. Daniel had introduced him as a family friend helping with the video.
Warren had been present at the beginning of my marriage.
Perhaps the lies had begun even before that.
The technicians located a concealed encrypted partition inside the drive. The file structure resembled the encryption used on the seven safe-deposit drives.
The wedding drive contained the key.
Once unlocked, the archive revealed thousands of documents accumulated over nearly two decades.
The FBI began copying it immediately.
The question was whether to deliver the original to Warren.
Collins proposed replacing the internal components with a tracker while preserving the exterior case. Warren might test it quickly, so technicians also loaded a partial working copy designed to delay discovery.
“We need enough time to locate the girls,” he said.
The marina warehouse appeared to have several underground utility tunnels and access to the lake. Tactical teams positioned themselves before dawn.
I wore a concealed transmitter beneath my coat.
Officers would remain out of sight unless I used the emergency phrase: Emily needs her blue dress.
At five forty-five, I drove into Sandusky alone.
The sky was still dark. Snow blew across the empty roads in thin sheets.
The marina gates stood open.
I parked beside Warehouse Twelve.
Inside, a single light hung above an old wooden table.
Patricia waited beneath it.
She wore the same cream coat from the mall, though one sleeve was torn and stained with blood.
“Where is Warren?” I asked.
“Watching.”
“Where are the girls?”
“On the lake.”
“Is Samuel alive?”
“For the moment.”
I placed the drive on the table but kept one hand on it.
“Show me proof Grace is alive.”
Patricia lifted a tablet.
A live video showed Grace and two girls sitting inside what appeared to be a boat cabin. Their wrists were not tied, but a man stood near the door.
Samuel lay on the floor behind them, blood covering one side of his face.
“Which boat?” I asked.
“You don’t get to ask questions.”
“I don’t give you the drive without answers.”
Patricia’s eyes narrowed.
“You always thought you were better than me.”
“This isn’t about us.”
“It has always been about us.”
“No. It’s about children you used because you were too weak to face Warren.”
Her hand moved toward her pocket.
Agents listening through my transmitter would hear every word.
“You know nothing about weakness,” Patricia said. “I was nineteen when Samuel introduced me to Warren. He was older, wealthy, connected. He controlled everything I wore, everywhere I went, every dollar I spent.”
“You escaped.”
“I survived.”
“And then helped him do the same thing to others.”
“I learned that power belongs to the person holding the evidence.”
“You could have gone to the police.”
“Samuel was the police. The judges. The attorneys. Warren owned them through secrets.”
“So you joined him.”
“I made myself useful.”
“You made yourself rich.”
She slapped the table.
“I protected Daniel!”
“You taught him that consequences were more dangerous than crimes.”
Patricia stared at me.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that I no longer feared her.
A speaker crackled above us.
Warren’s voice filled the warehouse.
“Enough.”
A door opened at the far end.
Samuel stumbled inside with his hands bound. Warren followed, holding a gun against his back.
Warren was thinner than the old photographs, but his eyes were unchanged. Calm. Empty.
“Rachel,” he said. “The drive.”
“Release the girls first.”
“They aren’t here.”
“Then you don’t get it.”
He pushed Samuel to his knees.
“Your uncle has thirty seconds.”
“He isn’t my uncle.”
Samuel looked up at Patricia.
“Give him the drive.”
Patricia did not move.
Warren smiled.
“That is why I always preferred you, Patricia. Samuel believed family loyalty was real.”
“Where is Grace?” she demanded.
“Safe until I leave.”
“You promised—”
“I have promised many things.”
Patricia’s hand emerged from her pocket holding a small pistol.
The tactical teams would not move because they had no clear view from outside.
Warren aimed at her.
Samuel threw himself sideways.
The gun fired.
The warehouse exploded into motion.
I dropped behind the table.
Patricia screamed.
Samuel fell.
Warren grabbed the wedding drive and ran toward a rear door.
I shouted the emergency phrase.
“Emily needs her blue dress!”
Glass shattered as agents entered from three sides.
Warren disappeared into a service tunnel.
Patricia lay beside Samuel. The bullet had struck her shoulder.
Samuel was alive.
An agent handcuffed Patricia while medics moved toward her.
She grabbed my sleeve.
“The boat is called Mercy.”
“Where is it?”
“North channel.”
“Which direction?”
She gasped for air.
“Warren planted a bomb.”
My blood froze.
“On the boat?”
“He said if the drive disconnects from his transmitter, the timer starts.”
“How long?”
Patricia looked at the broken warehouse clock.
“Ten minutes.”
Across the marina, engines roared as agents launched boats onto the black water.
The tablet on the table continued showing Grace and the other girls.
A red countdown appeared on the screen.
09:41.
Grace looked toward the camera.
May you like
“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.
Then the video went dark.
