Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Background and the Unwilling Accomplice
I paced aggressively back and forth across the hardwood floor of my dark living room,
every single second feeling like a miserable,
stretching hour of pure torture,
my eyes locked firmly onto the silent screen of my cell phone.
Detective Miller had told me to wait patiently,
to let the police do their official job,
but the police were currently wasting precious hours investigating a completely fake carjacking,
all while my terrified daughter was being taken further away by the minute.
I could not just stand there doing absolutely nothing,
so I opened my laptop quickly,
typing Aaron's full name desperately into the internet search bar,
combing furiously through his old social media accounts,
looking for anyone,
absolutely anyone,
named Claire.
Aaron was incredibly careful about his public image,
his online profiles were mostly boring professional updates and perfectly staged photos of him looking like a great dad,
but everyone makes tiny mistakes,
everyone leaves a digital footprint somewhere.
I searched heavily through his tagged photos,
scrolling rapidly past his annoying golf buddies and his wealthy coworkers,
my eyes scanning deeply for any unknown female face,
any comment left by someone I did not personally recognize.
And then I finally saw it,
a deeply buried,
seemingly innocent comment on a picture he posted three months ago,
a picture of a beautiful hiking trail surrounded by tall pine trees.
"Can't wait to see the renovations,"
the short comment read,
posted by a private account belonging to a woman named Claire Vance.
I clicked her name instantly,
my heart pounding loudly in my ears,
but her profile was completely locked down,
displaying only a tiny,
blurry profile picture of a blonde woman wearing dark sunglasses.
But I had a full name now,
and in our small,
gossipy town,
a full name was more than enough to find a physical address if you knew exactly where to look.
I pulled up the county property tax records,
a public database I had used constantly during our messy divorce to track down his hidden financial assets,
typing her name quickly into the search field,
holding my breath tightly as the system loaded the results.
There it was,
a small townhouse listed directly under her name,
located just on the quiet outskirts of the city,
barely a twenty-minute drive from my current location.
I slammed the laptop shut aggressively,
grabbing my heavy coat and my cold keys,
completely ignoring the sudden,
loud ringing of my cell phone on the table.
It was Detective Miller calling me back,
probably to tell me he had found the exact same information,
probably to order me to stay safely inside my house while he sent a squad car to interview her politely.
But I did not want politely,
I did not want official police procedure that gave her time to lie,
time to call Aaron and warn him that the cops were finally onto their sick plan.
I wanted answers right now,
and I was fully prepared to tear this woman's comfortable life apart with my bare hands to get them.
I drove like an absolute maniac through the heavy rainstorm,
running two red lights without ever touching the brakes,
the tires skidding dangerously on the wet asphalt as I took the sharp corners way too fast.
When I finally pulled onto her dark,
quiet street,
I parked my car haphazardly half on the wet sidewalk,
killing the bright headlights instantly,
staring intensely at the glowing windows of her small townhouse.
There was a sleek silver sedan parked neatly in the narrow driveway,
and I could clearly see the blue flickering light of a television glowing through the living room curtains,
meaning she was awake,
meaning she was sitting comfortably inside while my daughter was missing.
I marched aggressively up the concrete walkway,
ignoring the freezing rain pounding heavily against my face,
and I pounded my closed fists violently against her heavy wooden door,
the loud banging echoing terribly down the silent,
sleeping street.
"Open the door,"
I screamed loudly,
not caring if I woke up every single neighbor in the entire complex,
not caring if someone called the local police on me for disturbing the peace.
The blue light from the television suddenly clicked off,
the house plunging quickly into total darkness,
and I heard the soft,
hesitant padding of footsteps approaching the other side of the door.
"Who is it,"
a woman's voice asked nervously through the thick wood,
her tone laced heavily with genuine fear.
"I am Hannah's mother,"
I answered fiercely,
pressing my wet face close to the cold door frame,
my voice dripping with absolute venom.
"And if you do not open this door right now,
I am going to smash this front window to pieces and come inside anyway."
There was a long,
terrifying pause,
the sound of a heavy deadbolt clicking loudly in the dark,
and the door opened slowly,
just a few cautious inches,
kept secure by a thick metal chain guard.
Claire was a young,
pretty woman,
wearing expensive silk pajamas,
her blonde hair tied back in a messy bun,
her blue eyes wide with absolute shock and total confusion.
"Where is my daughter,"
I demanded instantly,
pushing my weight aggressively against the heavy door,
straining the metal chain tightly to its absolute limit.
"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,"
Claire stammered quickly,
taking a frightened step backward into her dark hallway,
her hands raised defensively in the air.
"Aaron said Hannah was staying with her friend tonight,
he told me he was going to the city for a business meeting."
"He is lying to you,"
I practically spat the angry words at her face,
feeling absolutely no sympathy for this foolish,
gullible woman who had fallen for his toxic charm.
"He is currently sitting in the emergency room faking a violent carjacking,
my daughter's bloody jacket was found dumped in the flooded creek,
and Hannah sent me a message saying he was taking her to a hidden cabin that you prepared for him."
Claire's face drained completely of all its natural color,
turning as perfectly white as a fresh sheet of paper,
her defensive posture collapsing instantly under the crushing weight of my terrifying words.
"Oh my god,"
she whispered horribly,
her trembling hands flying up to cover her open mouth,
tears welling rapidly in her wide eyes.
"He told me it was just a surprise vacation for the two of them,
he told me to stock the old hunting cabin with lots of food and warm clothes,
he said he wanted to spend quality bonding time with her."
"Where is the cabin,"
I yelled loudly,
slamming my flat hand hard against the wooden door,
making her jump violently backward in fear.
"Tell me exactly where it is right now,
or I swear I will make sure you go to federal prison for kidnapping a child."
Claire fumbled frantically with the heavy metal chain,
sliding it quickly out of the metal groove,
pulling the door completely open to let me inside the warm house.
"It is his grandfather's old property,"
she cried loudly,
tears streaming heavily down her pale cheeks,
finally realizing the terrible,
criminal monster she had been blindly helping.
"It is located way up in the Blackwood Mountains,
at the very end of an old logging road,
it is completely off the grid,
no cell service,
no electricity,
nothing."
She ran quickly into the dark living room,
grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a pen,
her hands shaking so violently she could barely write down the complex,
winding directions to the remote location.
"He left hours ago,"
she sobbed quietly,
handing me the trembling piece of paper,
her eyes filled completely with deep,
horrible regret.
"He took my old truck instead of his fancy SUV,
he said it handled the muddy mountain roads much better,
but I didn't know,
I swear to god I didn't know he was doing this."
I snatched the paper aggressively from her hand,
glancing quickly at the scribbled directions,
committing the specific highway numbers immediately to my racing memory.
"Call the police right now,"
I ordered her coldly,
turning my back completely on her crying form,
rushing back out into the freezing,
pounding storm.
"Tell Detective Miller exactly what you just told me,
May you like
tell him about the truck,
and tell him I am already on my way there."
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