Chapter 11 - THE SHADOW IN THE DRIVEWAY
Z
The paranoia was a living, breathing entity in my house. It sat in the corner of the living room while Lily watched cartoons. It followed me down the hallway. It slept at the foot of my bed.
Maya had immediately reinstated the private security detail, but this time, it felt wholly inadequate. We weren't dealing with a narcissistic grandmother and a pathetic sister anymore. We were dealing with professional violence.
“The police can't do anything based on an anonymous blog comment,” Maya explained over a secure line, pacing her office. I could hear the sheer frustration in her voice. “Detective Ortiz ran the IP address. It bounced through seven different countries and vanished into the dark web. This guy is a ghost, Natalie.”
“He thinks Daniel gave me the ledgers,” I said, pacing my own kitchen. “But Daniel didn't give me anything. I’ve scoured this house. The police scoured it. There are no cartel financial records here.”
“If this man believes you have them, logic doesn't matter,” Maya warned. “You need to pack a bag. I’m moving you and Lily to a safe house.”
“No.”
The word slipped out of me before I even registered it.
“Natalie, this isn't family court. You can't out-maneuver a cartel hitman.”
“If I run, I look guilty,” I argued, my voice hardening. “If I disappear into a safe house, he will hunt us for the rest of our lives. I won't raise my daughter in hiding. I won't let another monster dictate my life.”
Before Maya could argue, a sharp, authoritative knock echoed from the front door.
I froze. I checked the security cameras on my tablet. Standing on my porch wasn't a hitman. It was a woman in a crisp gray suit, holding a clipboard, flanked by a uniformed police officer.
“Maya, I have to call you back.”
I opened the door, keeping the chain engaged. “Can I help you?”
The woman held up a badge. “Natalie Harper? I’m Agent Miller with Child Protective Services. We received an anonymous, priority-one tip this morning alleging severe neglect and drug use in this home. We need to come inside and inspect the premises, and speak with your daughter.”
My blood ran cold. Evelyn’s old playbook, but executed with terrifying precision. Driver88 wasn't just threatening me; he was attacking my weakest point. He was trying to take Lily.
“I am a widow who just survived a highly publicized family trauma,” I said, forcing my voice to remain perfectly calm. “My attorney is Maya Chen. I suggest you call her before you try to cross my threshold on a bogus, anonymous tip.”
“Ma'am, if you refuse entry, I will return with a court order in an hour,” Miller said, her face expressionless.
I unlocked the chain. “Come in. Look wherever you want.”
For two hours, they tore through my home. They looked in the pantry, the bathrooms, the closets. They asked Lily gentle, probing questions while I sat seething on the sofa. Finally, finding absolutely nothing but a pristine home and a happy child, they left with stiff apologies.
As the CPS car pulled away, I stepped out onto the porch. The sun was setting, casting long, bloody shadows across the lawn.
Parked across the street, half-hidden under the canopy of an old oak tree, was a black sedan with heavily tinted windows. It wasn't my security detail. I stared at it. The engine idled, a low, menacing growl.
The driver’s side window slowly rolled down just an inch. A glowing cigarette ember flared in the dark interior.
May you like
Driver88.
He was letting me know he was here. He was letting me know he could send the state to my door, and he could sit on my street, untouchable. I didn't retreat inside. I stood on my porch, crossed my arms, and stared right back at the black car until it finally shifted into gear and rolled away into the twilight.
