Chapter 10 - The Midnight Call
The sharp, sudden ring of the landline pierced the quiet upstairs hallway, making both Mark and Sophie jump. In the modern age of smartphones, the landline rarely rang unless it was an automated emergency broadcast or an important automated alert from the home security grid.
Mark stared at the glowing white handset mounted on the wall. He reached out slowly, picking it up and holding it to his ear.
"Hello?" Mark said firmly.
"Mr. Reynolds?" a crisp, professional voice responded on the other end of the line. It wasn't the police officer from earlier. It was a deeper, gravely voice belonging to an older man who sounded profoundly exhausted. "My name is Detective Vance. I'm calling from the downtown precinct's special investigations division. I believe you have someone in custody who goes by the name of Helena."
Mark’s grip tightened around the plastic receiver. "Yes. The local patrol units picked her up here at my residence less than twenty minutes ago. She was arrested for child endangerment, wire fraud, and terroristic threats."
A heavy sigh echoed through the phone line. "Mr. Reynolds, I need you to listen to me very carefully, and I need you to ensure your daughter is sitting down."
Mark glanced back at Sophie, who was watching him anxiously from the edge of her pink bed. He waved her over reassuringly, gesturing for her to sit beside him on the carpet.
"She's right here beside me, Detective," Mark said, his voice dropping into a serious register. "What is this about? I just found a journal in her lockbox belonging to a Dr. Jonathan Vance. Are you related to him?"
"He was my brother," Detective Vance replied grimly. "And Helena is not who she claims to be. Her real name is Eleanor Brooks. She was a patient under my brother’s psychiatric care before she murdered him and burned his clinic down five years ago. We've been hunting her across three states ever since."
Mark felt the blood drain entirely from his face. The reality of how close his daughter had come to absolute catastrophe hit him like a physical blow. "Murdered him? But the local police just transported her to the county jail ten minutes ago. She's in custody."
"That is precisely why I am calling you on an emergency priority line, Mr. Reynolds," Detective Vance said, his voice rising in panic. "The transport unit never made it to the county jail. Their cruiser was intercepted on the interstate overpass by an armed accomplice driving an unmarked black SUV. They ambushed the officers, disabled the vehicle, and freed her."
Mark stood up so fast his chair tipped over backward, crashing loudly against the pink carpet. "Intercepted? She's loose?"
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"She is armed, dangerous, and she knows you have her lockbox," Detective Vance warned urgently. "Lock all your doors, secure your windows, and do not open the house for anyone. Our tactical backup units are twenty minutes away, but until they arrive, you are entirely on your own."
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