Chapter 2 - The Enablers Strike
I stared down at the screen, my ears ringing with the absurdity of her rage. Behind me, Ava sat huddled in the porcelain tub, clutching her plush rabbit as if the universe were coming apart at the seams. Outside, Mark was zip-tying the wrists of a syndicate runner who had been sent to extort my daughter's safety. And my mother was screaming at me for embarrassing the family.
"Mom," I said, my voice eerily calm, stripped of all warmth. "Nicole stole forty thousand dollars’ worth of Daniel’s estate. She stole Ava's birthday money. And her criminal associate is currently pinned to my front porch by Mark."
A brief pause hung on the line, followed by the heavy, indignant huff of my father seizing the phone.
"Sarah, stop exaggerating!" Dad bellowed, his voice carrying the familiar, booming authority he used whenever Nicole got caught in another one of her self-inflicted catastrophes. "Nicole is terrified! She was crying so hard she threw up in the back of the cruiser! What kind of monster sends the police after her own flesh and blood over some trinkets Daniel left behind? He’s dead, Sarah! That watch is just metal in a drawer! Nicole has living children who need to eat!"
"Trinkets?" I choked out, a bitter laugh tearing from my throat. "She took a master key to my home, Dad. She broke Ava’s piggy bank with a hammer in front of her. Ava is seven! She worked a lemonade stand in ninety-degree heat all summer to save that six hundred dollars!"
"Ava is a child; she’ll get over it!" Dad barked back without missing a beat. "We will write her a check tomorrow morning! But Nicole has a record now because of you! If she goes to jail, who takes care of Brody and Chloe? Are you going to raise them? You need to call the district attorney, drop the charges, and tell them you gave Nicole permission to take that watch to be appraised for you. That’s what family does!"
"Family doesn't send armed thugs to threaten their nieces, Dad."
"Nobody sent thugs to your house, you paranoid little—"
"Listen to me carefully," I interrupted, cutting him off with a tone so venomous he actually stopped speaking. "If you or Mom set foot on this property tonight, I will have Mark detain both of you alongside this animal on my porch. The police are already two minutes out. If you want to see your daughter, go to central booking. But if you call this number again, I will add a harassment injunction to the felony charges already pending."
I ended the call and blocked both their numbers with two taps of my thumb.
Sirens wailed in the distance, high and urgent, carving through the residential quiet of our suburban cul-de-sac. Two patrol cruisers pulled up behind Mark’s truck, red and blue lights painting the trees in strobe flashes. Three officers emerged, guns drawn low, moving with practiced coordination.
Mark stood back, holding his military ID in plain view. "Mark Vance. Homeowner’s brother-in-law. The suspect didn't resist once cornered. He claims he was delivering a message."
One of the officers pushed the man face-down onto the gravel, patting him down with swift precision. From the inside pocket of his leather coat, the officer pulled out a heavy brass key ring, a tactical folding knife, and a handwritten index card.
The officer glanced at the card, then looked up at me as I stood in the doorway, the front door cracked open.
"Ma'am? Does your daughter attend St. Jude’s Elementary?"
The air was completely sucked out of my lungs. "Yes. Why?"
The officer held up the card. Written in bold, black marker was Ava’s full name, her second-grade classroom number, her daily dismissal time, and the license plate of my SUV.
"This came out of his pocket," the officer said grimly. "This isn't a trespassing charge anymore. This is aggravated felony stalking and criminal intimidation."
The suspect, his face pressed against the stone steps, chuckled through the dirt. "Don't look at me like that, lady. I didn't write it. Your sister did. She gave that card to Julian three days ago as collateral to buy herself seventy-two more hours to come up with forty grand."
The world tilted.
Nicole hadn't just gotten in over her head. She hadn't just panicked and grabbed the first valuable thing she could find in my home. She had premeditated this. She had mapped out my daughter's schedule, handed it to an extortionist, and offered Ava’s safety as leverage to keep her own skin intact.
Mark’s face drained of color, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles jumped under his skin. He stepped toward the patrol car where they were loading the runner, his voice a low, terrifying rumble. "Who do you work for?"
"Detective Miller is already at the precinct with your sister-in-law, sir," the arresting sergeant said, placing a firm, restraining hand on Mark’s chest. "Let us handle this. Ma'am, you and your daughter cannot stay here tonight. If Julian Vane has this address and knows his runner is compromised, this house is a crime scene and an active target."
"Where do we go?" I asked, my voice trembling for the first time. "My parents are already covering for her. They'll tell her people anything."
May you like
Mark turned to me, his eyes burning with cold resolve. "My cabin up on Blackwood Ridge. It’s off-grid, fenced, and not registered under the Vance family name. Daniel helped me buy it five years ago. Nobody knows about it. Pack Ava’s clothes. We leave in ten minutes."
***
