Chapter 9 - THE LAST EXITThe tunnel ended beneath the dock.
I did not hear a word of it.
Grand jury proceedings are secret, and parents do not receive exceptions because they pace hallways badly.
Margaret and I waited in a federal building conference room three floors away.
She drank cold coffee.
I walked enough miles to invade a small country.
At 2:36 p.m., Clara emerged with Agent Pike.
Her face was exhausted.
But different.
Lighter.
Margaret stood.
“How are you?”
“Hungry.”
I laughed.
Margaret cried.
We found sandwiches.
For fifteen minutes we did not discuss Dominic.
It was the closest thing to normal we had experienced in days.
Then Pike’s phone rang.
She stepped away.
When she returned, her expression told me the world had shifted again.
“The grand jury returned indictments.”
Clara lowered her sandwich.
“For Dominic?”
“Yes.”
Charges included conspiracy, bribery, obstruction of justice, witness tampering, kidnapping-related offenses, and financial crimes.
Additional charges related to the assault and safe-house attack would depend on ongoing evidence.
“And Judge Price?” Margaret asked.
“Indicted separately.”
“Where is he?”
“Still missing.”
“What about Dominic?”
Pike looked at us.
“Also missing.”
My chair scraped backward.
“What?”
“He failed to appear for a scheduled meeting with counsel this morning. His driver says he hasn’t seen him since 6:00 a.m.”
Clara went pale.
“His passport?”
“Flagged.”
“Private aircraft?”
“Grounded.”
“He has another way.”
Pike nodded.
“We assume so.”
A man like Dominic did not build escape routes after trouble arrived.
He built them years earlier.
By evening, federal agents searched two residences, three hangars, and a marina.
No Dominic.
Then Clara remembered something.
“The lake house.”
Pike looked up.
“What lake house?”
“It’s not in his name.”
“Whose?”
“His mother’s maiden name. Bellamy.”
Pike typed.
Nothing.
“No property.”
“Not directly. Dominic told me once it belonged to a trust.”
“Where?”
“North of Lake Arden. Near the Canadian border.”
That narrowed little.
Then Clara closed her eyes.
“There’s an old photograph in his study. A wooden lodge with a green roof. A number on the dock.”
“What number?”
“I don’t remember.”
I watched her concentrating.
“Take your time.”
She shook her head.
“Seventeen. Maybe seventy-one.”
Pike’s team searched aerial property data.
Twenty-three minutes later, they found it.
Bellamy Family Preservation Trust.
Lake property.
Green metal roof.
Dock number 17.
Federal teams mobilized.
Nobody expected Dominic to be there.
He was.
At 11:08 p.m., thermal surveillance detected three people inside.
Dominic.
An unidentified man.
And a woman.
Agents surrounded the lodge.
Dominic did not surrender.
At 11:31, the unidentified man exited with his hands raised.
Judge Samuel Price.
The woman remained inside.
Nobody knew her identity.
Pike called Clara.
“Is there anyone Dominic might take with him?”
Clara looked confused.
“His assistant? A lawyer?”
“We don’t know.”
Then another image arrived.
Grainy.
Taken through a window.
Clara stared.
Her face changed.
“Oh God.”
“Who?”
“Sofia.”
The maid who had seen her escape.
Dominic had taken Sofia.
Of course he had.
A witness.
Another person with less power than him.
Another human being to use.
Clara stood.
“I need to talk to him.”
“No,” Pike said.
“He listens to me.”
“He hits you.”
“He needs me.”
“That makes you useful, not safe.”
Clara’s voice sharpened.
“If he thinks I’ll come back, he might let Sofia go.”
“Absolutely not.”
Margaret stepped in.
“Can you establish phone contact without exposing Clara’s location?”
Pike looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Then let Clara decide whether she wants to speak.”
I looked at Margaret.
She saw my objection.
“She is our daughter,” Margaret said quietly. “Not our prisoner.”
That hurt because it was true.
For two years Dominic had made decisions for Clara.
We could not protect her by doing the same.
The call was arranged through a secure line.
Dominic answered on the third ring.
“Clara.”
Her hands shook.
“I’m here.”
“I knew you’d call.”
“Let Sofia go.”
He laughed softly.
“She’s fine.”
“Let me hear her.”
A pause.
Then Sofia’s frightened voice came through.
“Mrs. Ward?”
“Sofia, are you hurt?”
“No.”
Dominic returned.
“See? Everyone is being dramatic.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“You’re surrounded.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re safe somewhere with your father pretending he’s still at war.”
I took a step toward the phone.
Pike held up a hand.
Clara continued.
“Dominic, listen to me.”
“I am listening.”
“If you let Sofia go, I will tell them you cooperated.”
“You think I care what they say?”
“I think you care about control.”
Silence.
“You took Sofia because you needed somebody in that room to be afraid of you.”
Dominic’s breathing changed.
Clara had hit him.
“You’re confused.”
“No.”
“You’re sick.”
“No.”
“The pregnancy—”
“No, Dominic.”
Her voice strengthened.
“That word doesn’t work anymore.”
Nobody moved.
Clara continued.
“I am not confused. I am not hysterical. I am not unstable. You hit me. You drugged me. You threatened my parents. You planned to take my baby.”
Dominic’s voice became cold.
“They poisoned you against me.”
“You did that yourself.”
Long silence.
Then he whispered:
“You’ll regret this.”
Clara looked at Agent Pike.
“No.”
She wiped one tear from her cheek.
“I regret staying.”
Dominic hung up.
Three minutes later, the lodge door opened.
Sofia walked out alone.
Hands raised.
Crying.
Alive.
Clara collapsed into a chair.
We thought the hostage crisis was ending.
It was not.
A gunshot came from inside.
Agents moved.
Another shot.
Then flames appeared through a rear window.
Dominic had set the lodge on fire.
Judge Price, still outside in custody, began shouting.
“He has a tunnel!”
Pike repeated into her radio.
“What tunnel?”
Price screamed, “Under the boathouse!”
Dominic Ward was not surrendering.
May you like
He was escaping.
And the tunnel led directly to the lake.
