Chapter 3 - The First Thread
I couldn't fight Arthur in court without money, and the police were entirely convinced by his narrative. I needed hard, undeniable proof of their conspiracy. I needed to find out where they went after they abandoned us in the Adirondacks. They couldn't have just driven straight back to New York without stopping. Three SUVs towing heavy prefab cabins would guzzle gas.
I spent my last two hundred dollars in cash bribing a night-shift manager at a toll booth operation center. It was a long shot, but I knew David’s license plate number. My brother-in-law was too meticulous to swap plates in the woods. Sure enough, the toll cameras caught David’s black Escalade heading south on Interstate 87, far away from their homes in Manhattan.
May you like
They weren't going back to the city. They were heading to my parents' summer estate in South Carolina. A secluded, gated compound where they could hide the cabins and coordinate their legal assault in peace.
I bought a burner phone and a rusted 2004 Honda Civic from a shady used car lot, paying with the last of my physical cash. I packed a duffel bag with dark clothes, a heavy Maglite flashlight, and the survival knife that had kept Leo and me alive by cutting branches for our shelter. I kissed Leo on the forehead while he slept at Rachel's house. "I'll be back, buddy," I whispered. "I'm going to fix this." The drive south took fourteen hours. Every mile fueled the inferno in my blood.
