Chapter 5 - The Safehouse
""Keep your hands where I can see 'em,"" the voice growled from behind the beam.
""Frank, it’s me,"" Marcus said, raising his empty hand while shielding the sleeping toddler against his ribs. ""It’s just us.""
The light flicked downward, illuminating the concrete floor littered with motor parts and oil stains before sweeping across Emily’s frightened face. A low, raspy sigh escaped the shadows, and Frank Rossi stepped forward. He was an imposing man in his late sixties, clad in a weathered canvas jacket, his silver hair cropped close to a skull mapped with deep lines of cynicism. He lowered the snub-nosed revolver and tucked it into his waistband.
""Jesus, Marcus,"" Frank murmured, his gaze falling upon Emily’s bruised face and Leo’s tiny, limp form. ""They really weren't lying about the mess.""
""Who wasn't lying?"" Marcus demanded, stepping inside the drafty garage.
""Word travels fast when Helen Vance opens her war chest,"" Frank said, walking over to a wooden workbench where a battery-powered lantern cast a soft amber perimeter. He pulled out a box of granola bars and a carton of apple juice, setting them down. ""Sit the kids down here. They need sugar. Look at 'em, they’re shaking.""
Emily climbed onto a wooden stool, her eyes darting around the shadows before settling on the juice. ""Thank you, mister,"" she said quietly, peeling the straw with trembling fingers.
Frank looked at Marcus, his face grim. ""Helen held an impromptu press briefing twenty minutes ago outside your house. Surrounded by Barnes and two county prosecutors. Said you suffered a mental breakdown after failing a major audit at the firm. Claimed you attacked her, dragged the children out of their beds, and fled in a manic state. She was crying on camera, Marcus. Academy-award level shit.""
""The audit was clean,"" Marcus hissed, his hands curling into fists. ""I was in Chicago closing a joint venture. She wanted me out of town. She was systematically alienating the kids.""
""She didn't just alienate them, Marcus. She set a trap,"" Frank said, pulling an envelope from his jacket. ""Two days after you left, Helen filed an emergency petition for sole custody and adult conservatorship over your assets. She claimed you were showing early signs of severe bipolar disorder with violent tendencies. She had medical records, signed by Dr. Kenneth Vance.""
Marcus went cold. ""Kenneth? That’s my brother.""
""Was your brother,"" Frank corrected bluntly. ""Looks like Kenneth sold his medical license to Helen’s father years ago to cover his gambling debts. The paper trail is airtight, Marcus. On paper, you’re an unstable, violent father who just committed an aggravated kidnapping.""
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Suddenly, the faint wail of distant sirens cut through the night air, drifting along the breeze from the highway. Emily froze, the juice box slipping from her hand and spilling across the dusty wood.
""They found the car,"" Frank said flatly, his eyes locking onto the door.
