Chapter 3 – THE TRAIN TICKET IN THE GLOVEBOX

The black SUV tore through the dark Illinois highways.

Daniel drove with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed dead ahead. Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, his phone pressed to his ear, orchestrating his men to set a quiet perimeter around the small town of Lakeview.

I sat in the back seat, my hands folded tightly in my lap.

I had spent two years dusting their shelves and pouring their coffee. Now, I was hurtling into the night with a Mafia boss and his sober brother to rescue a child.

“Turn off the headlights when we exit the highway,” Gabriel instructed smoothly. “Marcus will have lookouts if he’s expecting Victoria.”

“Where exactly in Lakeview?” Daniel asked, his voice tight.

I leaned forward. “Mr. Romano, if Marcus’s real estate firm is bankrupt, he wouldn’t be renting a nice house. He’d use a foreclosed property. Something off the grid.”

Gabriel looked back at me. “Do you know any?”

“There’s an old logging cabin near the reservoir,” I said. “The bank took it back three years ago. The road is unpaved, and nobody goes out there anymore.”

Gabriel nodded. “Show him.”

Twenty minutes later, the SUV crept down a narrow, gravel road bordered by towering pine trees. The moonlight barely penetrated the canopy.

Through the trees, the faint glow of a yellow porch light pierced the darkness.

Daniel threw the car into park, not even bothering to kill the engine. He unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Danny, wait,” Gabriel warned, catching his arm.

“That’s my son in there, Gabe.”

“And Marcus is likely armed. Let me go first.”

Daniel looked at his brother. For a second, the old dynamic flared—the capable older brother protecting the broken younger one.

But Daniel gently removed Gabriel’s hand.

“For four years, you cleaned up my messes,” Daniel said quietly. “You saved my life, Gabe. But I’m sober now. I’m a father. Let me walk through that door first.”

Gabriel stared at him. He saw the quiet, unshakeable strength in Daniel’s eyes.

Gabriel nodded, stepping back. “I’m right behind you.”

We approached the cabin silently.

The front door was slightly ajar.

Daniel pushed it open. The hinges groaned.

The living room was sparsely furnished. A space heater buzzed in the corner.

But the room was empty.

Daniel rushed to the back bedroom. Empty. The kitchen. Empty.

“They’re gone,” Daniel gasped, panic breaking his voice. “We’re too late.”

Gabriel didn’t panic. He scanned the room with practiced precision.

“They didn’t pack,” Gabriel observed, pointing to a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the small wooden table. “They left in a hurry.”

I walked over to a small cot pushed against the wall.

Resting on the thin pillow was a heavy, wool coat. A woman’s coat.

I reached out and touched it. The fabric was damp.

“Someone was just here,” I said.

But as I lifted the coat, something fell from the pocket and fluttered to the wooden floor.

Gabriel picked it up.

It was a train ticket.

Printed on thick cardstock, it was a one-way fare from Lakeview to Chicago.

But it wasn’t the destination that made Gabriel freeze. It was the departure time.

11:15 PM.

Gabriel checked his watch. “It’s 10:50. They’re taking them to the train station.”

“Why?” Daniel asked desperately. “Why move them back to the city?”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened. “Because Victoria knows we tracked the wire transfer. She called Marcus and told him to bring the boy to her. If she controls the child in Chicago, she has leverage over both of us.”

Daniel didn’t wait. He sprinted out the door.

We piled back into the SUV. The tires spun in the mud as Daniel slammed his foot on the gas, tearing down the gravel road toward the center of town.

“The train station is on the north side,” I directed, gripping the seat in front of me. “Take the next left!”

The small, rural train platform was bathed in flickering fluorescent light.

As we pulled into the empty parking lot, my heart leaped into my throat.

A silver sedan was idling near the platform steps.

Standing on the concrete platform, gripping the arm of a terrified woman, was Marcus Langford.

And hiding behind the woman’s legs, clutching a small stuffed bear, was a little boy.

“Elena,” Daniel breathed, slamming the car into park.

He threw the door open and started running across the asphalt.

Marcus turned. When he saw Daniel charging toward him, panic flashed across his face.

Marcus reached into his jacket.

He pulled out a silver handgun and pointed it directly at Elena’s head.

“Stop right there, Daniel!” Marcus screamed, his hand shaking wildly. “Take one more step, and I pull the trigger!”

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