Chapter 7 - The Rabbit HoleOwen burst into the hallway, rushing to the heavy steel door of the panic room. He typed in the six-digit code. The deadbolts retracted with a heavy clank.
Inside, little Mara was curled up on a cot, her hands firmly over her ears, eyes squeezed shut. She was still clutching the grey stuffed rabbit.
"Mara, it's okay. The bad lady is gone," Owen said gently, dropping to his knees.
Mara opened her eyes and launched herself into her father's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Owen held her tight, his own tears finally breaking free. He let her cry until her breathing steadied, stroking her hair.
"Honey," Owen said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "Daddy needs to borrow Mr. Hops for a second. Is that okay?"
Mara sniffled, looking down at the plush toy. Reluctantly, she handed it over.
Owen took the rabbit. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the worn fabric. Then, his fingers brushed against something hard near the rabbit's seam, buried deep in the synthetic cotton. A zipper that Sarah had carefully sewn over.
With shaking hands, Owen pulled his pocket knife from his jeans. He carefully slit the seam along the back of the toy. He reached two fingers inside and pulled out a tiny, black micro-SD card wrapped in a small piece of water-proof tape.
He had it. The ledger. The key to burning Greg and the cartel to the ground.
He hurried back down to the kitchen, leaving Mara safely locked in the room. Marcus had dragged a now-conscious Elena into a dining chair. She was bleeding from the head, her smugness entirely replaced by a venomous glare.
Owen held up the micro-SD card. Elena’s eyes widened, locking onto the tiny piece of plastic.
"You found it," she whispered, a grim smile touching her lips. "It doesn't matter. You're a dead man anyway."
Before Owen could demand an explanation, the silence of the property was shattered by a new, terrifying sound. The wail of police sirens. Dozens of them. Red and blue lights began flashing through the gaps in the steel shutters.
Marcus ran to a security monitor. "Owen... there are SWAT trucks pulling up onto your lawn."
Owen's phone vibrated in his pocket. It wasn't the police. It was Greg.
Owen answered it, putting it on speaker.
"Owen, buddy, you there?" Greg's slick, arrogant voice echoed through the destroyed kitchen. "Listen, I just got off the phone with the Chief of Police. Seems you had a psychotic break. You found out your nanny was abusing Mara, snapped, and held her hostage. It's a tragedy. Especially when you resist arrest and they have to shoot you."
"You sick son of a bitch," Owen snarled.
May you like
"I'm closing the Vanguard sale in forty-eight hours, Owen. I couldn't have you or that ledger complicating things," Greg sighed. "Give my regards to Sarah."
The call disconnected. Outside, a megaphone blared. "OWEN BELL. THIS IS THE POLICE. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP."
Related Stories
