Chapter 12
Jonathan Hayes was worse than Arthur.
Because Arthur had wanted something.
Money.
Power.
Legacy.
Hayes wanted nothing.
Except to fulfill his contract.
To make us suffer.
Agent Torres increased security.
Moved us again.
To a new safe house.
More guards.
More cameras.
More layers of protection.
But Hayes was a ghost.
He left no trace.
Made no threats.
Except for that one phone call.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Nothing happened.
No notes.
No cars.
No phone calls.
Nothing.
But the silence was worse than any threat.
Because we knew he was out there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Planning.
Thomas and Nick started school.
At a new place.
With guards always nearby.
They tried to be normal.
Tried to be kids.
But I could see the fear in their eyes.
The way they looked over their shoulders.
The way they flinched at loud noises.
Hayes wasn’t hurting us physically.
But he was destroying us mentally.
Making us live in fear.
Every single day.
My lawyer called.
The divorce was finalized.
Daniel was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison.
Sarah got five years in exchange for testifying against him.
Frank got eight.
Arthur’s empire was dismantled.
His assets seized.
My restaurant was returned to me.
Free and clear.
All the debts Daniel had incurred in my name were erased.
Legally, everything was over.
But in reality…
It was just beginning.
Hayes was still out there.
And he was patient.
One afternoon.
I was at the restaurant.
It was my first day back.
Months after everything.
The staff was happy to see me.
The regulars welcomed me back.
For a few hours…
I felt almost normal.
Almost safe.
Then I went to my office.
To check the mail.
Mostly bills.
Invitations.
Junk.
And then one envelope.
Plain.
Unmarked.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Of my mother.
Who lived three states away.
Who I hadn’t told anyone about.
Who I’d kept hidden.
To protect her.
The photo was recent.
Taken that morning.
Outside her house.
She was gardening.
Smiling.
Oblivious.
Written on the back.
In neat, precise handwriting.
“One.”
I dropped the photo.
Breathing hard.
He had my mother.
Not physically.
Not yet.
But he knew where she was.
And he was counting.
One.
I called Agent Torres immediately.
He arranged for my mother to be moved.
To a safe house.
Under guard.
But it was too late.
The message had been sent.
The count had begun.
A week later.
Another envelope.
This time at the safe house.
A photo of Rebecca’s husband.
At work.
Written on the back.
“Two.”
Rebecca was terrified.
For her husband.
For her kids.
We moved them too.
New identities.
New location.
But the count continued.
The next week.
A photo of Thomas’s favorite teacher.
“Three.”
Then Nick’s social worker.
“Four.”
Then my restaurant manager.
“Five.”
Every week.
Another person.
Another number.
Another piece of my life.
Hayes was counting down.
To what?
We didn’t know.
But we knew it would be terrible.
Agent Torres tried everything.
To trace the letters.
To find the source.
To catch Hayes.
Nothing.
He was too careful.
Too good.
And then…
The letters stopped.
For three weeks.
Nothing.
Silence.
I waited.
Tense.
Terrified.
Waiting for the next number.
It never came.
Instead…
I got a phone call.
From my mother’s safe house.
Her caregiver.
Panicked.
“Valerie… your mother is gone.”
My heart stopped.
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“She was here one minute. The next… she was gone. The guard was knocked out. There’s a note.”
“What does it say?”
“Just one word. ‘Ten.’”
Ten.
He’d skipped six through nine.
Gone straight to ten.
And he had my mother.
I called Agent Torres.
Called Rebecca.
Called everyone.
We searched everywhere.
For days.
Nothing.
No trace.
No ransom note.
No demands.
Nothing.
Until the fifth day.
A package arrived.
At the safe house.
Addressed to me.
Inside was a phone.
It rang immediately.
I answered.
Hayes’s voice.
Calm.
Polite.
“Hello, Valerie.”
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“Safe. For now. But that depends entirely on you.”
“What do you want?”
“To make a deal,” he said. “Just you and me. No police. No FBI. No tricks. You come alone. To the address I’m about to send you. You give yourself up. And your mother goes free. Unharmed. The deal is simple. Your life for hers.”
Rebecca shook her head violently.
“Don’t do it, Valerie.”
Hayes spoke again.
Like he could hear her.
“You have one hour, Valerie. If you’re not here alone… I kill her. Slowly. And I’ll make sure you hear every scream. Then I’ll find the boys. And then Rebecca’s family. And then everyone else on my list. This is your only chance to end it. All of it. Forever.”
The line went dead.
An address appeared on the phone.
An old warehouse.
On the docks.
Agent Torres immediately began planning.
A raid.
A trap.
But I shook my head.
“No. He’ll know. He’ll kill her before you get within a hundred feet. I have to go. Alone. Like he said.”
“Valerie, no,” Thomas said. He’d been listening. “You can’t.”
I knelt down in front of him.
In front of Nick.
Both boys had tears in their eyes.
“I have to,” I said softly. “Grandma’s life depends on it. And I have a plan. I’m not going to give myself up. I’m going to end this. Once and for all.”
I looked at Agent Torres.
“Tell your team to be ready. But wait for my signal. Not before. If you move too early… he kills her. And disappears. Forever. This is our only chance to catch him. To end it.”
Agent Torres hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Be careful.”
One hour later.
I pulled up to the warehouse.
Alone.
Heart hammering.
But determined.
I got out of the car.
Walked toward the warehouse door.
It creaked open.
Darkness inside.
I stepped forward.
The door slammed shut behind me.
And a voice spoke from the darkness.
“Very brave, Valerie. Very foolish. But very brave.”
Lights flickered on.
Jonathan Hayes stood in front of me.
And behind him.
Tied to a chair.
My mother.
Alive.
But terrified.
And beside Hayes.
Two men with guns.
Hayes smiled.
Cold.
May you like
Empty.
“Now the game can truly begin.”
