Chapter 10 - The Man She Screamed For
The scream on the old recording lasted four seconds.
It felt longer.
Clara watched present-day Sophia in her mind as the terrified voice of four-year-old Sophia filled the blue room.
Dr. Shaw reached for the laptop.
"Turn it off."
Dante stopped her.
"Wait."
The tape continued.
Shaw's younger voice sounded alarmed.
"Sophia, you're safe."
Vincent spoke from the doorway.
"What happened?"
Sophia screamed again.
Then there was movement.
A chair scraped.
Shaw said:
"Vincent, please step out."
He answered with mild surprise.
"I came to see Elena."
"She's downstairs."
The child sobbed.
Vincent lowered his voice.
"Sofi-bird, it's Uncle Vinny."
Dante stopped the recording.
Nobody moved.
Clara felt a cold line run down her spine.
Sofi-bird.
The same private childhood nickname used by the man who took Sophia from Dante's house that morning.
Dante replayed the line.
"Sofi-bird, it's Uncle Vinny."
Then he replayed Maria's statement in his head.
A man in a maintenance uniform had approached Sophia and called her Sofi-bird.
Vincent had not merely known the nickname.
He had used it around Sophia before Elena died.
Clara looked at Dante.
"Mercer didn't take her alone."
Dante nodded.
"Vincent either took her himself or sent someone who knew exactly what to say."
Dr. Shaw sat down heavily.
"I forgot that was on the tape."
Dante turned on her.
"How do you forget that?"
Shaw flinched.
"Because three days later Elena was dead."
She looked at the floor.
"And four days after that Mercer was standing outside my son's school."
Dante's anger remained.
Clara stepped in before it burned the wrong person.
"We need the rest of the session."
Dante looked at her.
"She's right."
He pressed play.
On the old recording, Vincent left the room.
Sophia slowly stopped crying.
Dr. Shaw asked:
"Does Uncle Vinny scare you?"
Sophia whispered:
"Mommy says don't tell him."
"Don't tell him what?"
"About the box."
Dante leaned closer.
"What box?"
The recording offered no answer.
Shaw changed the question.
"Where is the box?"
Little Sophia whispered something too softly for the microphone.
Elias boosted the volume.
"In Mommy's music."
Clara frowned.
"Music?"
Dante looked up sharply.
"The piano."
"What piano?"
"Elena's Steinway."
"Where is it?"
Dante's face tightened.
"In storage."
"Where?"
He pulled out his phone.
The piano had been removed from the residence after Elena died because Dante could not bear hearing anyone play it.
Vincent had arranged the storage.
Of course he had.
The instrument was listed at a private warehouse in Brooklyn.
Dante called the warehouse manager.
No answer.
He called again.
Nothing.
Elias checked the property cameras.
The feed was offline.
Dante swore.
"We're going."
Clara grabbed her coat.
Dr. Shaw stood.
"I should come."
Dante shook his head.
"No."
"If Sophia left anything connected to therapy-"
"You stay here."
His tone left no space for argument.
Then he looked at Clara.
"And you stay too."
Clara stared at him.
"We already had this conversation."
"This time the people holding Sophia specifically asked for you."
"Which is why disappearing may make them nervous."
"Good."
"Nervous people make mistakes."
"Nervous people also hurt hostages."
Clara went silent.
That was the first argument she could not push through.
Dante softened his voice.
"Stay with Evelyn."
"And if Vincent knows we're here?"
"Six men will be outside."
Clara gave him a look.
"Your last house had more."
Dante almost smiled despite everything.
"Seven, then."
He left.
Clara watched the convoy disappear through the townhouse window.
Dr. Shaw sat at the child's desk.
"He trusts you."
Clara looked at her.
"He barely knows me."
"That has never stopped trust."
"It usually should."
Shaw gave a tired laugh.
Then her expression became serious.
"Elena trusted people too slowly."
"Did that help her?"
Shaw looked down.
"No."
The answer sat heavily between them.
Twenty minutes later, Elias called Clara directly.
"Dante isn't answering."
Clara's stomach tightened.
"Where is he?"
"His convoy reached the warehouse."
"And?"
"Then all vehicle trackers dropped at once."
"Jammed?"
"Looks like it."
Clara looked at Shaw.
"Can you reach his men?"
"No."
A crash sounded downstairs.
Clara froze.
One of the guards shouted.
Then another crash.
The townhouse lights went out.
Dr. Shaw stood.
"Oh, God."
Clara grabbed the old cassette player from the desk without knowing why.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs.
A guard appeared at the door.
"We need to move now."
"What happened?"
"Gas line alarm."
Clara did not move.
She remembered Maria.
A man had told her there was a gas leak.
"No."
The guard stared at her.
"Ms. Hale."
"Who told you there was a gas leak?"
"Building system."
"Show me."
"We don't have time."
Dr. Shaw grabbed Clara's arm.
"We should go."
Clara looked at the guard's shoes.
Black leather.
Dry.
Then his jacket.
Dante's men wore discreet lapel pins.
This man had one.
But it was on the wrong side.
Clara's pulse spiked.
"What's your name?"
The guard's eyes changed.
Clara shoved the door closed.
The man hit it from the other side.
Dr. Shaw screamed.
Clara threw the deadbolt.
The door shook under another impact.
"Window."
They ran to the rear window.
Four floors down, a narrow fire escape clung to the brick.
Clara climbed out first.
Shaw followed.
The bedroom door splintered behind them.
Clara descended two levels before a man appeared at the bottom of the fire escape.
Mercer.
He looked up.
"Really?"
Clara stopped.
They were trapped between him and whoever had entered the room above.
Shaw whispered.
"What do we do?"
Clara looked through the second-floor window beside them.
A dark office sat inside.
"We go sideways."
She kicked the glass once.
Nothing.
Twice.
A crack spread.
Mercer started climbing.
Clara kicked a third time.
The window broke inward.
She wrapped her coat around her hand and cleared the edge.
Shaw crawled through first.
Clara followed.
Mercer's hand caught the bottom rung just below them.
They ran into the hallway.
The building next door was an attorney's office.
A receptionist stared as two women burst through a locked interior door.
Clara pointed at the desk phone.
"Call 911."
Mercer entered the office behind them.
His badge was visible.
"Police."
The receptionist froze.
Mercer pointed at Clara.
"She's unstable."
Clara laughed once in disbelief.
"Of course I am."
She grabbed a heavy glass award from the reception desk.
"You kidnapped a child, planted evidence in my apartment, and just chased me down a fire escape."
Mercer stepped closer.
"Put that down."
Dr. Shaw moved beside Clara.
"I am Dr. Evelyn Shaw."
She looked at the receptionist.
"This man threatened my son three years ago."
Mercer's face changed.
That was enough.
The receptionist hit a silent alarm.
Mercer heard the click.
He ran.
Clara followed to the window but did not chase him.
A black SUV screeched away from the curb.
She memorized the plate.
Then her phone rang.
Dante.
She answered.
"Are you okay?"
His voice was breathless.
"Yes."
"Where are you?"
"Next door."
"Why?"
"Mercer tried to take us."
Silence.
When Dante spoke again, his voice was terrifyingly calm.
"Is Evelyn alive?"
"Yes."
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Stay there."
"What happened at the warehouse?"
Dante paused.
"We found the piano."
Clara closed her eyes.
"And?"
"Someone got there first."
"The box?"
"Gone."
"Anything left?"
Another pause.
"A body."
Clara's hand tightened around the phone.
"Who?"
Dante answered.
"The warehouse manager."
May you like
Then he said the part that made her blood run cold.
"He was holding a photograph of you."
