“But will your son even agree to get involved in something this messy?” “He’ll agree,” Sandra said with a wink. “Let me call him. And you stay here for now. You’re not sleeping in bus stations.” For the first time in a long while, Emily felt herself exhale. A faint light had appeared at the end of the tunnel.
Ian, a serious young man with glasses, listened carefully to the whole story. “So?” Sandra asked when Emily finished. “What do you think?” “It’s bad,” Ian said professionally. “The case was weak to begin with, but the escape made everything worse. Still, I’ll dig. There has to be a way.”
“You’d better,” Sandra muttered. “Those men are dangerous.” “And I’ve told you a hundred times to quit working for that place,” Ian said, shooting his mother a look. “I just cook there,” Sandra replied. “Makes no difference to me who owns it. Besides, they pay well and on time. Right now we’re helping Emily.”
“Fine,” Ian said. “Emily, I’ll start making calls tomorrow. I’ll be in touch.” “Thank you,” she said sincerely. The next evening, Ian returned with his first update. He had managed to see Sam in jail. “He asked me to tell you he loves you and misses you,” Ian said with an encouraging smile.
“How is he holding up?” Emily asked, tears filling her eyes. “Solid,” Ian said. “He’s not giving up. I also told him the truth about Vince. Better to know who your enemies are. And one more thing—we’re filing an appeal. But to make it work, we need hard evidence proving he had nothing to do with the weapons.”
“Where are we supposed to get that?” Emily asked. “Richard will never admit anything.” “Vince told you to get the route for a major shipment. Why? My guess is they planned to hijack it or use it to set Richard up. And that may be our leverage.” “I don’t follow,” Emily said, shaking her head.
“Richard will be very interested to learn that serious people are targeting his cargo,” Ian explained. “And he may be willing to pay dearly to know who. Tell me—what kind of man is he? Can he be reasoned with?” “In business, yes,” Emily said. “He’s practical. He listens, weighs risks, and likes control.”
“Interesting. Then why were you running from him like he was a serial killer?” Ian asked. “Because in private he’s twisted,” Emily said, shuddering. “I didn’t believe the stories until I saw the room myself.” “Can we prove that?” Ian asked immediately. “Document it somehow?” “I don’t know,” Emily said. “People say both his ex-wives ended up in psychiatric hospitals.”
“Now that,” Ian said, clapping his hands once, “is useful. He used to live in the city, right?” “Yes. After what happened with Sam, he sold off his business there and moved to our town.” “If I can dig up enough dirt on him, would you be willing to meet with him directly?” “Only if you’re with me,” Emily said.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Ian said. “For now, I need to track down those ex-wives. I know someone in law enforcement who can help me search hospital records.” A week later, after a string of tense days, Emily and Ian were on their way to meet Richard. Ian had managed to get audio recordings that could destroy the businessman’s carefully maintained image. Richard valued his reputation, which meant he might be willing to deal.
“Nervous?” Ian asked. “You look pale.” “Very,” Emily admitted. “I left too much pain in this town. My parents’ deaths, my aunt’s house, then that wedding night…” “Keep your chin up,” Ian said. “Sam told me to look after you.”
They stepped out of the cab and walked into Richard’s office building. The receptionist nearly dropped her pen when she saw the missing bride standing there with a man she didn’t recognize. “Emily?” she said, eyes wide. “Where have you been? The boss had everyone looking for you. He even called the police.” “Is he in?” Emily asked coolly, nodding toward the office door.
“Yes. I just brought him coffee. Want me to announce you?” “No need,” Emily said with a tight smile. “We’ll surprise him.” She pushed the door open. Richard sat behind his laptop, studying charts. He was so focused he didn’t look up right away. “Hello, husband,” Emily said loudly, though inside she was shaking.
“What the hell?” Richard snapped, ripping off his glasses and jumping to his feet so fast his chair tipped backward. His face flushed with anger. “No sudden moves,” Ian said coolly, stepping forward. “Sit down and hear us out.” “Who are you?” Richard growled. “I represent Emily’s interests,” Ian said. “My name is Ian Carter.”
