Chapter 8 - The Countdown
The computer monitor flickered, revealing a digital timer ticking down from fifteen minutes in bright, glowing red numbers.
Claire lunged toward the console, her hands slamming against the keyboard. “Where is she, Marcus? If you touch her, I swear to God—”
“Save your breath, Claire,” Marcus interrupted through the speaker system, his tone smooth and mocking. “You played your hand, you swung the glove, and now you deal with the stakes. The old man is long gone, and Sophie is somewhere very secure. You have fourteen minutes to figure out the clue I left on the kitchen counter.”
Claire spun around, abandoning the basement console, and sprinted back up the concrete stairs.
“Mrs. Vance, wait! It could be a trap!” Officer Davis yelled, chasing after her.
Claire burst out of the hidden door and raced across Mr. Palmer’s empty living room, out the front door, and back into her own house. The kitchen counter sat exactly as she had left it—the old cassette recorder, the photograph, and the manila folder.
She grabbed the photograph of herself and Marcus from five years ago. Her fingers dug into the cardboard backing. She felt a slight ridge along the bottom edge.
With a sharp pull, she peeled the back off the photo. A tiny micro SD card fell out onto the marble counter.
“Davis! I found it!” Claire shouted, holding up the tiny black chip as the officer jogged into the kitchen.
Davis rushed over, pulling a small card reader from his utility belt and plugging it into his department-issued tablet. He slid the micro SD card into the slot.
A single digital file popped up on the screen: a coordinate map of the old industrial park on the edge of town, with a pulsing red dot flashing over warehouse building number four.
“That’s downtown,” Davis said, looking at his watch. “Twelve minutes left.”
Claire grabbed her car keys from the counter, her eyes hardening with fierce determination.
May you like
“Then we drive,” Claire said.
---
