Chapter 7 - The Police Report
At 6:30 p.m., two officers from the Columbus Division of Police stood in the kitchen of the house on Willow Creek Lane.
Officer Miller, a middle-aged man with graying hair at his temples, stood near the granite island, taking notes on a digital tablet. His partner, Officer Davies, was walking through the master bedroom, taking photos of the empty closet shelves.
Derek stood by the living room window, his arms folded tightly across his chest. He had removed his tie, but his expensive suit pants were still creased perfectly.
"So, Mr. Vance," Officer Miller said, looking up from his tablet. "Let me make sure I have the timeline correct. You left the house at five-thirty this morning. Your wife was in active labor, five minutes apart."
"Yes," Derek said sharply.
"And you left her here alone to catch a cab?"
Derek’s jaw tightened. "I had a high-priority business engagement with out-of-town clients. I left her cash for transportation to Riverside. It’s six miles away."
Officer Miller made a small entry on his tablet. He looked down at the granite counter where the platinum ring sat beneath the overhead light.
"And the ring was left on the counter?" Miller asked.
"Yes."
"With a note that said 'Keep the fifteen dollars'?"
"I already told you that!" Derek snapped, turning around. "Why are you focusing on the ring? My wife is missing! She is nine months pregnant! She could be in a ditch! She could have been abducted outside the house!"
Officer Davies walked back into the kitchen, holding his tablet.
"We checked the neighborhood traffic camera at the entrance of Willow Creek Lane," Davies said flatly, looking at Derek. "At 5:38 a.m.—eight minutes after your Audi left the driveway—a gray Honda Civic with Pennsylvania plates pulled up to the end of your street."
Derek blinked. "Pennsylvania?"
"A female matching your wife's description walked down the driveway with a bag and entered the passenger side of that vehicle," Davies continued. "The vehicle turned east onto Route 161 toward the interstate."
Derek stared at the officer, his mind scrambling to construct a narrative that made sense.
"Pennsylvania..." he whispered. Then his eyes widened. "Rachel."
"Rachel?" Officer Miller asked.
"Her sister!" Derek shouted, his voice cracking with sudden rage. "Her older sister, Rachel! She lives in Pittsburgh! She came here and took her!"
"Did your wife leave voluntarily, Mr. Vance?" Officer Miller asked, his tone cool, professional, and entirely detached.
"She... she was coerced!" Derek insisted, stepping toward the officers. "She was in labor! She wasn't in her right mind! Her sister brainwashed her! I want you to issue an Amber Alert! I want you to trace that car!"
Officer Miller looked at Officer Davies, then back at Derek. He set his tablet down on the counter.
"Mr. Vance," Miller said calmly. "An Amber Alert is issued for abducted children. Your wife is an adult woman. She walked out of your house under her own power. She got into a private vehicle registered to a family member. She left a signed note and her wedding ring."
"She took my baby!" Derek roared.
"She is carrying her child, sir," Miller corrected firmly. "Until a court issues a formal custody order, an expectant mother has the absolute legal right to travel anywhere she chooses. This is not a kidnapping. This is a domestic separation."
"My uncle is Arthur Vance!" Derek threatened, pointing a finger at the officer's chest. "If you don't file a missing persons warrant within the hour, his firm will have your badge before the morning!"
Officer Miller didn't flinch. He picked up his tablet, slid it into his belt holster, and adjusted his hat.
"You can call whoever you like, Mr. Vance," Miller said coldly. "We will file an informational report stating that Clara Vance departed the residence voluntarily with a relative. No criminal charges will be filed. Good evening."
The two officers walked out the front door, leaving it slightly open to the cool evening air.
Derek stood alone in the dark kitchen.
May you like
He looked at the empty glass of water on the counter. He looked at his leather briefcase sitting on the chair.
For the first time in his life, the silence in the house didn't feel peaceful. It felt like an absolute, hollow void that was slowly closing in around him.
