Chapter 4 - The Dragnet
That night, while the wheels of justice turned five hundred miles away in Chicago, I stayed with Lily at a secure, undisclosed safe house arranged by CPS.
Lily lay in the bed beside me, holding a stuffed blue bear the hospital staff had given her. The house was dead quiet, save for the soft patter of rain against the windowpane.
"Mom?" she asked, her voice hovering in the shadows.
"I'm right here, sweetie."
"Is Daddy going to be mad at us?"
I turned on my side, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders. "Daddy isn't going to be able to be mad at anyone anymore. Some very strong people are stopping him from ever hurt you again."
She absorbed this, her small fingers tracing the plush fur of her bear. "Can I eat a pancake tomorrow? A big one?"
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, but I forced a warm, steady smile. "You can have three big pancakes tomorrow. With syrup and extra butter. As many as you want."
At 1:45 AM, my phone vibrated quietly on the nightstand. It was a text from Detective Vance.
Target taken into custody without incident by CPD and FBI at The Drake Hotel. Extradition proceedings initiated. Search warrant executed at your residential address.
I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for two years. He was behind bars. The physical threat was neutralized.
However, the war was far from over.
The next morning, FBI Special Agent Marcus Reed arrived at the safe house. Agent Reed was a tall, stoic man with sharp gray eyes who specialized in cold case disappearances linked to domestic violence.
"Mrs. Whitaker," Agent Reed said as we sat in the safe house kitchen while Lily played with blocks in the next room. "Because of Daniel’s statements on the wiretap regarding Sarah Whitaker, federal authorities have officially reopened her missing persons file as a homicide investigation."
I shuddered. "Do you think... do you think he killed her?"
"We believe Sarah attempted to flee the marriage four years ago after discovering the extent of his controlling nature," Reed explained coldly. "Her bank records show she withdrew five thousand dollars from a private account the day before she vanished. She was preparing to run with two-year-old Lily. We suspect Daniel discovered the plan."
"Where would he have taken her?" I asked, my mind racing through every memory of Daniel's habits, his trips, his property.
"That's what we need your help with," Reed said, laying out a map of the state. "Daniel owns or rents properties you might not even know about. Did he ever mention land? Storage units? A family cabin?"
I stared at the map. Suddenly, a tiny, forgotten memory flashed through my mind—a conversation from six months ago when we were organizing the garage.
May you like
"His grandfather’s property," I breathed, pointing to an area in rural Indiana near the state border. "He mentioned an old family cabin near Lake Tippecanoe. He said it was condemned, but he kept paying the property taxes on it. He went down there twice last year 'to clear out old junk,' but he never brought anything back."
Agent Reed locked eyes with me and picked up his phone. "Give me the exact county, Maya. We’re sending a forensic team right now."
