Chapter 9
Two days passed in agonizing tension. The children noticed nothing. Oliver still ran down the hallway every morning. Olivia still hid her plastic butterflies. Ethan still joked about his upcoming medical tests. Ryan and Emily played their parts perfectly. They smiled. They laughed. They pretended everything was normal. But underneath, they were coiled tight as springs. Every time a car drove past the house slowly, Ryan checked the cameras. Every time Emily went to the grocery store, she checked her rearview mirror. On the third afternoon, Marcus called. "I have something." He didn't elaborate over the phone. Twenty minutes later, he was sitting in Ryan's study. He placed a laptop on the desk and turned it around. The screen showed grainy security footage from a coffee shop across from the children's school. "Watch the man in the corner booth," Marcus said, pointing to a figure in a dark coat. Ryan leaned closer. The man was reading a newspaper. But he wasn't turning the pages. His attention was entirely focused on the school gates. "Fast forward to 3:00 PM," Marcus said, tapping the keyboard. The video skipped ahead. The school bell rang. Children poured out onto the sidewalk. The man in the booth finally moved. He lowered the newspaper. He pulled out a camera with a long lens. And he aimed it directly at Oliver and Olivia. Ryan's jaw tightened. "Is that him?" Marcus zoomed in on the man's face. It was blurry, but the features were distinct. Thin face. Sharp cheekbones. Deep-set eyes that looked entirely too similar to Victoria's. "That's Arthur," Marcus confirmed. "I ran the image through facial recognition." "He's been using an alias." "Thomas Hale." "He's renting a cheap motel room two miles from here." Emily, who had been standing behind Ryan, crossed her arms tightly. "What is he waiting for?" Marcus sighed. "Hard to say." "People like this, they don't think logically." "They operate on obsession." "He's studying your routines." "Finding the weak spots." "And?" Ryan asked. "Have you found his weak spots?" Marcus nodded slowly. "He's broke." "Victoria was funding him secretly for years." "When she went to prison, the money stopped." "He lost his apartment." "He lost his car." "He blames you for ruining his life." "He doesn't have resources, but he has time." "And nothing to lose." Ryan stared at the frozen image of Arthur's face. "I want him gone, Marcus." "Legally, illegally, I don't care." Emily placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Ryan, no." "We don't do this her way." "We don't break the law." Ryan looked up at her. "He is targeting our kids, Emily." "I know," she said softly. "But if you cross that line, you become just like them." "We need to give this to the police now." "We have proof." "We have his face." "We have his alias." Marcus closed the laptop. "She's right, Ryan." "With this footage, the police can act." "They can pick him up for stalking." Ryan rubbed his temples. The headache had been building for days. "Fine." "Take it to the precinct." "Give it to Detective Miller." "He handled the original case." Marcus nodded. "I'll head there now." Before Marcus reached the door, Ryan's phone buzzed. It was a text message. From an unknown number. Ryan opened it. His breath caught in his throat. It was a picture of their front porch. Taken from the street. Just seconds ago. Attached was a single line of text. Nice to see you hiring help. Ryan bolted out of the chair. He sprinted to the front door, tearing it open. He ran out onto the porch, looking frantically up and down the street. Nothing. No cars. No pedestrians. Only the wind blowing dead leaves across the pavement. Emily rushed out behind him. "What is it?" Ryan showed her the phone. "He's here." "He's watching the house right now." Marcus stepped out onto the porch, his hand instinctively resting on his holstered weapon. "Get inside," Marcus ordered. "Lock the doors." "I'm sweeping the perimeter." Ryan pulled Emily back into the house. The locks clicked into place. The invisible barrier had been breached. The monster was no longer hiding in the shadows. He was standing at their front door.
