Chapter 22
"Where are they?" I demanded, pushing past Miller to inspect the empty back seat myself. The leather was pristine. There were no children, no blankets, no signs of life. The suffocating dread that had momentarily lifted crashed back down upon me with double the weight.
Arthur Vance laughed softly as the troopers hauled him upright. "Where are who, Dr. Carter? I am simply a man taking a late-night drive to clear my head. It is not illegal to travel on the interstate."
Miller grabbed Vance by the lapels of his expensive suit, slamming him back against the side of the SUV. "You arrogant son of a bitch. We breached the textile mill. We know you moved the children. Where are you hiding them?"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about," Vance replied, his smile unwavering, his eyes locking onto mine with a cold, sociopathic gleam. "You have no evidence, Detective. No children, no bodies, no crime. You pulled me over for speeding. Write the ticket and let me go."
I stared at Vance, my mind racing. He was a lawyer. He was incredibly meticulous. He knew the roadblock was coming because he had triggered the highway cameras on purpose. It was a calculated distraction.
"He's a decoy," I whispered, the horrifying realization dawning on me. I turned to Miller. "He purposely drove down the highway to draw the police away from the city. He didn't take the kids. He left them behind."
Vance’s arrogant smile faltered for a fraction of a second. It was all the confirmation I needed.
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"Miller, think," I said frantically. "He evacuated the mill because he knew the warrant was signed. But he didn't have time to set up a new safe house. Where do you hide three traumatized children in the middle of the city when the police are hunting you?"
Miller’s eyes widened. "His law firm. The corporate building downtown. It has private underground parking, heavy security, and no one would ever suspect a legitimate law office of holding hostages."
