Chapter 6 - The Intimidation Game
The living room was in disarray. The desk drawers where I kept my utility receipts had been pulled out and dumped onto the rug. The small framed photo of Sarah on the mantelpiece had been knocked face down, the glass cracked across her smiling face.
"Owen!" I yelled, my heart hammering against my ribs with a terror no battlefield had ever caused me.
"Dad! I’m in the pantry!"
I bounded into the kitchen. The walk-in pantry door was pushed shut from the outside with a heavy wooden kitchen chair wedged under the brass knob. I yanked the chair away and pulled the door open.
Owen tumbled out, clutching a cast-iron skillet to his chest, his eyes rimmed with red tears. He threw his arms around my waist, his whole body shaking.
"Two guys," Owen gasped, his voice ragged. "They kicked the back kitchen door open. They were wearing ski masks. They told me to sit still and give them any laptops or flash drives in the house. I grabbed the skillet and locked myself in here before they could grab me."
I held my boy tightly against my chest, feeling his heartbeat racing at a terrifying speed. "Are you hurt? Did anyone touch you?"
"No," he sobbed. "They searched your desk. Then someone’s phone rang, and one of them said, 'He’s already got the drive, let's get out of here.' Then tires screeched out back."
The remote access on the office computer. When Vance or whoever was controlling that machine saw the file transfer hit 100%, they immediately called local muscle to hit my house before I could make it back.
They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.
I walked to the kitchen counter, picked up the landline phone, and dialed Officer Gary Reynolds’s personal cell number.
"Reynolds," he answered on the second ring.
"Gary, this is Caleb Mercer. Five minutes ago, two men broke into my home while my son was inside. They ransacked my desk looking for digital evidence."
There was a dead pause on the line. "Is Owen okay?"
"He's unharmed, but they forced their way in through my back door. I want a patrol car on my street right now, Gary. And I want you to call Chief Dalton and tell him that if anyone from the Lawson family comes near my son again, the Oak Ridge Police Department will be answering to the State Attorney General."
"Caleb, listen to me," Reynolds said, his voice urgent and strained. "Dalton just signed the warrant twenty minutes ago. Marcus Vance came down to the precinct with Donald Lawson himself. They pressured Dalton into executing an immediate arrest warrant for second-degree assault and burglary. They're claiming you broke into the gym tonight."
"They're setting up a trap," I said.
"If you come in through the front desk tomorrow morning, you’re going straight into a holding cell without bail until the Monday magistrate hearing," Reynolds warned. "Dalton is on their side, Caleb. You cannot walk into this precinct alone."
"Who is the duty magistrate this weekend?" I asked.
"Judge Evelyn Carter," Reynolds said. "She’s strict, but she doesn't take kickbacks from Donald Lawson. She hates political interference in her courtroom."
"When does her morning docket start?"
"Nine o'clock tomorrow morning at the county courthouse in Greenfield," Reynolds replied. "Caleb, what are you going to do?"
"I’m going to make sure the truth gets played in a room where Donald Lawson doesn't own the judge," I said.
I hung up the phone.
I turned to Owen. He was standing by the kitchen counter, looking at the broken glass on his mother's picture frame. He carefully picked it up, wiped the dust from Sarah’s face, and looked at me.
"Dad," he said, his voice no longer trembling. "Don't let them make us run."
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I looked at my son. For the first time in two days, the look of defeat had completely vanished from his eyes. In its place was something steady, stubborn, and profoundly familiar. It was the same look Sarah had whenever someone told her something was impossible.
"We aren't running, Owen," I said. "Pack a change of clothes. Tonight, we’re staying at a motel across the county line. Tomorrow morning, we finish this."
