Chapter 8 - The Green Beret in the Rain
"THEY TOOK HER BECAUSE OF ME!"
I was standing in Tessa's kitchen when Detective Ortiz arrived.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Ruth had warned me.
Ruth had found evidence.
Ruth had risked her safety.
And now she had disappeared.
Detective Ortiz studied the video.
"Morgan, listen carefully. You are not responsible for what these people choose to do."
"But if I hadn't—"
"Ruth made her own decision to help you. Our job now is to bring her home."
She showed the footage to her colleagues.
Investigators reviewed nearby security cameras and traced the vehicle used in Ruth's abduction.
The footage wasn't perfect.
But it revealed enough.
A dark delivery van had stopped near the jewelry shop.
Two men approached Ruth.
A third remained behind the wheel.
Within minutes, the van disappeared into traffic.
The registration information led investigators toward a series of industrial properties.
One of them was an abandoned freight warehouse on Chicago's southwest side.
And a company associated with Graham Pike had previously leased storage space nearby.
At eleven that night, Detective Ortiz called.
"We found the van."
I jumped to my feet.
"Where's Ruth?"
"We're still working on that."
I heard voices in the background.
Then she added something that made my stomach turn.
"The vehicle was parked behind an old warehouse. We believe someone is inside."
For the next hour, I sat beside Tessa and stared at the clock.
I couldn't eat.
I couldn't read.
I couldn't do anything except imagine Ruth trapped in a dark room, wondering whether anyone would find her.
At 12:18 a.m., my phone rang again.
Detective Ortiz.
"She's alive, Morgan."
I covered my mouth.
"Oh, thank God."
"She's been taken to the hospital. She's conscious, but she's hurt."
I closed my eyes.
Tessa wrapped her arms around me.
Neither of us spoke.
The following morning, Detective Ortiz allowed me to visit Ruth after medical staff confirmed she was able to receive visitors.
Ruth lay in a hospital bed with bruises along one cheek and a bandage around her wrist.
Her green beret rested on the bedside table.
She smiled faintly when she saw me.
"Well, sweetheart. This has become rather inconvenient."
I started crying.
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize."
"They hurt you."
"They frightened me."
She looked toward the window.
"But fear doesn't make a person wrong for telling the truth."
I held her hand.
She explained that the men had demanded to know what she had told me.
They wanted the jewelry records.
They also wanted to know whether I had contacted the police.
"When I refused to answer, one of them told the others to call Graham."
My stomach tightened.
"Did you hear him?"
"Not directly. But they said something about the cottage."
"What?"
Ruth looked at me carefully.
"They said the land was worth far more than your husband had been telling you."
I thought about the $450,000 sale.
"How much more?"
"I don't know."
She swallowed.
"But one of them mentioned that a development project couldn't proceed without access through your grandmother's property."
I frowned.
"Access?"
Ruth nodded.
"Something about a private road."
Before I could ask another question, Detective Ortiz entered.
She had news from the laboratory.
The necklace had been examined under controlled conditions.
Preliminary testing indicated that the dark residue contained a hazardous chemical substance.
Further analysis was needed to establish its exact composition and origin.
But the initial findings were serious.
"The specialists believe prolonged contact with the contaminated surface could have exposed you to a dangerous substance through your skin," she explained.
I stared at her.
"So if I had worn it overnight..."
"We can't predict exactly what would have happened. But avoiding contact may have prevented serious harm."
I looked at Ruth.
Her eyes filled with tears.
She squeezed my hand.
Detective Ortiz continued.
"The laboratory is preparing a more detailed report. We're also examining whether the residue has any connection to Nora Sloane's case."
I nodded.
Then Ruth spoke.
"Detective, there's something else you need to know."
We both turned toward her.
Ruth's expression had changed.
She looked frightened again.
"While those men were arguing outside the room, I heard another voice."
"Whose?" Detective Ortiz asked.
"Daniel Mercer."
My blood ran cold.
"My boss?"
Ruth nodded.
"He told them they'd made a terrible mistake by taking me."
I could barely breathe.
"Daniel was there?"
"Yes."
She looked directly at me.
"And then he said something I'll never forget."
Detective Ortiz leaned closer.
"What did he say?"
Ruth swallowed.
May you like
"He said, 'If Morgan finds out what the cottage is really worth, Julian's necklace won't be the last thing we have to use against her.'
"
