Chapter 7: The Morning Everything Moved
Cole called at six forty-three on a Thursday morning.
I was already awake.
I had barely slept.
"Today," he said.
"We move today.
Can you get her out of the house by nine?"
"How?"
"Suggest breakfast.
Somewhere she likes.
Keep her away from her phone and away from the house for ninety minutes."
Laura was still asleep.
I stood in the kitchen in the early light and thought about what Cole had told me the night before: Farrow had booked a flight.
Not under his real name, but the travel pattern matched previous disappearances.
If they didn't move today, they might not get another chance.
I made coffee.
I brought a cup to the bedroom.
"Hey," I said softly.
"Wake up.
I thought we could go to that place you like on Hargrove Street.
The one with the eggs Benedict."
She opened her eyes.
Looked at me.
Something moved behind her expression — brief, unreadable.
"On a Thursday?"
"I've got a late start.
Thought it would be nice."
She sat up slowly.
"Give me twenty minutes."
We drove to the restaurant.
We ordered.
We sat across from each other in a corner booth and I watched her check her phone twice under the table and put it away both times without responding to whatever she had seen.
"You seem distracted," I said.
"Just tired." She picked up her coffee.
"I didn't sleep well."
"Me neither."
She looked at me over the rim of her cup.
For a moment — just a moment — something in her face shifted.
Not the calculated warmth I had been watching for two weeks.
Something older.
Something that looked almost like sadness.
"Michael," she said.
"Yes?"
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Looked down at her plate.
"Nothing," she said.
"Never mind."
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
I glanced at it under the table.
Cole: *We're in.
Farrow is at the airport.
Stay with her.*
I put the phone away.
"You sure?" I said.
She nodded.
She cut into her food.
She did not look up again.
We drove home at nine forty.
Laura went inside first.
I stood at the car and sent Cole a single message: *Back at the house.*
His reply came in under a minute: *We have Farrow.
Detained at the gate.
Laura's phone will go dark in the next few minutes when we execute the warrant on his devices.
Watch how she reacts.*
I walked inside.
Laura was standing in the kitchen with her phone in her hand, staring at the screen.
Her face had gone still in a way I had never seen before.
Not calm.
Frozen.
She tried to dial.
Nothing went through.
She tried again.
I stood in the doorway and watched her try a third time.
Then she looked up and saw me.
And I knew from her face that she understood.
Not everything.
Not yet.
But enough.
The polite smile did not come this time.
"Michael," she said.
Her voice was different.
Stripped of something.
"Laura," I said.
Or whatever your name is.
I didn't say that part.
May you like
I didn't need to.
Two officers appeared at the front door behind me.
