Chapter 3 - The Hunt for Rachel
"Gone?" I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor. "What do you mean, gone? She was at the house!"
"By the time our officers arrived to secure the scene, Mrs. Vance, your sister had already left in her vehicle," the detective explained, pulling out a small notebook. "We tracked her cell phone signal to a highway heading north, but the signal was cut off about ten minutes ago. She threw the phone out of the window."
"She’s heading for the clinic," Mark said, his voice sharp. "The wellness center in upstate New York. It’s a remote property near the Canadian border. She has associates there who can help her cross over."
"How do you know this, Mr. Vance?" the detective asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Because my private investigator was tracking her associates," Mark said, pulling out his own phone. He typed in a password and pulled up a live GPS tracking app. "I didn't just put a tail on Rachel. I had my investigator put a magnetic GPS tracker on the underside of her car last week, just in case she tried to run. She doesn't know it's there."
The detective stared at the screen, which showed a small red dot moving rapidly along Interstate 87.
"You've been investigating your sister-in-law on your own?" the detective asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
"I was protecting my family," Mark said, his voice rising slightly. "My daughter is in the ICU because of that woman. I am giving you her exact location. Are you going to arrest her, or do I have to go get her myself?"
The detective took the phone from Mark's hand, noting the coordinates. He spoke into his radio, directing state troopers to set up a roadblock along the highway.
"Mr. Vance, you stay here with your wife and daughter," the detective ordered. "Let us do our job."
But as soon as the detectives left the room, Mark turned to me.
"They're going to miss her, Sarah," he said, his voice tight. "The roadblock is fifteen miles ahead, but there’s an exit before then that leads to the back roads. She knows those roads. She’s been driving them for years."
"Mark, no," I said, grabbing his arm. "Don't leave me. What if Emma wakes up?"
"Emma is safe here, Sarah. The hospital has security, and the police are watching her room. But if Rachel gets across the border, we will never see justice. She’ll disappear, and we’ll spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders, wondering when she's going to come back to finish the job."
He looked at me, his eyes pleading for my understanding. He loved Emma more than life itself, and I could see the raw, burning need for vengeance in his chest.
"I’m coming with you," I said, my voice hardening.
"Sarah, it’s dangerous—"
"She is my sister, Mark. I am the one she betrayed. I am the one who held my daughter while she died in my arms. I am not staying in this waiting room."
Mark looked at me for a long moment, seeing the determination in my eyes. Slowly, he nodded.
May you like
"Alright. Let's go."
We ran out to our car, the cold winter air biting our faces. As Mark slammed on the gas, the tires screeching on the asphalt, I looked back at the hospital, praying that my little girl would still be breathing when we returned.
