Chapter 4 - The Woman Behind the Blue Door
“DON'T CHASE THE FASTEST VAN. CHASE THE ONE CARRYING SOMEONE WHO CAN'T SURVIVE A ROUGH RIDE.”
Those words came from Dr. Priya Shah.
Naomi had called her immediately after Cameron's threat.
The surgeon studied what we knew about the two vehicles.
“Emily has extensive orthopedic injuries,” she explained. “Moving her without proper stabilization could cause serious complications. If they're trying to keep her alive, they'll need to transport her carefully.”
Naomi relayed that information to the teams monitoring both routes.
One vehicle was traveling west on the interstate.
The other had turned south toward the river district.
The second van was moving considerably slower.
My instincts told me to follow it.
But instincts weren't evidence.
And I knew Cameron was counting on making me choose emotionally instead of carefully.
Naomi turned toward Daniel.
“I want both vehicles monitored. Nobody makes contact until we can protect whoever is inside.”
Daniel nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Blake, you're staying here.”
I stared at him.
“My wife is in one of those vans.”
“I know.”
“Then I'm not standing around while—”
He stepped closer.
“Your wife needs you alive, and she needs the people trying to kill her to face a jury. Don't let Cameron decide what kind of man you become.”
I stopped speaking.
Because that was exactly what Cameron wanted.
He wanted me reckless.
He wanted an angry soldier confronting sheriff's deputies on a public road.
He wanted photographs of a violent military veteran that his father's lawyers could use to discredit everything Emily had witnessed.
I took a slow breath.
“All right.”
Naomi studied me.
“You can ride with us once the teams have secured the scene.”
It wasn't the answer I wanted.
But it was the answer I could live with.
Fifteen minutes later, we reached the waterfront industrial district.
Warehouse Seventeen stood beside a narrow access road overlooking the James River.
Its brick walls were stained black from decades of rain.
The loading area was surrounded by chain-link fencing.
And beside the rear entrance stood a heavy blue metal door.
I recognized it from Emily's photograph.
Federal agents were already searching the building.
The warehouse contained a makeshift treatment room, several empty medical supply containers, and evidence that multiple vehicles had recently used the loading area.
But Emily was gone.
Again.
I looked toward the blue door.
Someone had scratched a small symbol into the paint.
A sunflower.
My chest tightened.
Emily used to draw sunflowers in the margins of grocery lists.
She said they reminded her that even ordinary things could turn toward the light.
I approached carefully.
Naomi stood beside me as an evidence technician photographed the mark.
Beneath it were three faint scratches.
I recognized those too.
Three marks.
The same number Emily always tapped on my shoulder before I left for deployment.
Our private little ritual.
Three taps meant one thing.
Come back to me.
I closed my eyes.
“She's telling me she hasn't given up.”
Naomi placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Then neither have we.”
Her radio crackled.
“Agent Price, the interstate vehicle has been stopped.”
Everyone went still.
“Status?”
“Driver detained. Vehicle appears empty except for medical equipment.”
My stomach dropped.
The wrong van.
Cameron had been right about one thing.
He knew how to make fear work for him.
Naomi pressed her radio.
“Status on the river vehicle?”
Static.
Then a voice.
“We have visual contact. Vehicle entered an old county pumping station. Two individuals exited. One appears to be carrying medical supplies.”
Naomi looked at me.
“We may have her.”
My knees almost weakened.
“Please.”
She spoke into the radio again.
“Confirm patient presence before approaching. Medical personnel are standing by.”
The minutes stretched painfully.
I watched raindrops falling from the edge of the warehouse roof.
I listened to distant traffic crossing the bridge.
Every sound seemed impossibly loud.
Finally, Naomi's radio came alive.
“Female patient located. Conscious. Multiple leg injuries. She's asking for her husband.”
I grabbed the side of the SUV.
Naomi's eyes met mine.
“Blake.”
I couldn't speak.
“We found her.”
I covered my face.
For the first time since receiving Nora's phone call overseas, I cried.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
I simply bent forward as the weight of fourteen hours of terror finally broke through.
Marcus stood beside me.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.
Within minutes, paramedics confirmed that Emily could be moved safely.
One man in the pumping station had fled before agents arrived.
Two others were detained.
Neither wore an official sheriff's uniform.
But one carried a department-issued identification card belonging to Captain Pike's security detail.
The connection was becoming impossible to deny.
When the ambulance reached the protected hospital entrance, Naomi permitted me to accompany the medical team.
I entered the room slowly.
Emily lay on a stretcher beneath a white blanket.
Her auburn hair spread across the pillow.
Her face was swollen on one side.
Both legs were heavily immobilized.
There were bruises along her arms where someone had grabbed her.
But her eyes were open.
And they were looking at me.
“Blake?”
Her voice was barely audible.
I rushed to her side, stopping myself before I touched her injured body.
“I'm here, sweetheart.”
Her lips trembled.
“You came.”
I took her hand.
“Of course I came.”
“I thought…”
She stopped.
I leaned closer.
“What?”
“I thought they were going to kill me before you got home.”
I pressed her hand against my cheek.
“They're not taking you away from me again.”
She began crying quietly.
I kissed her forehead.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
The machines beside her continued their steady rhythm.
The paramedics moved around us, checking her condition.
But all I could see was Emily.
My Emily.
The woman who laughed at terrible jokes.
Who remembered everyone's birthday.
Who rescued injured birds from our backyard.
Who somehow still worried about whether I'd eaten enough, even while lying in a hospital bed.
She reached toward my face.
“You look terrible.”
A broken laugh escaped me.
“You should see the other guy.”
She managed the smallest smile.
Then her expression changed.
“Blake, listen.”
“Not now. You need rest.”
“No.”
Her fingers tightened.
“Please.”
I leaned closer.
“They weren't just trying to scare me.”
“I know.”
“They kept asking about a recording.”
I looked toward Naomi, standing near the doorway.
Emily continued.
“Cameron thinks I have it.”
“What recording?”
“The parking garage.”
My heart began pounding.
“You recorded what happened?”
She nodded weakly.
“My car camera was running. It captured everything.”
“Where is the recording?”
“I don't have it anymore.”
“Then who does?”
Her eyes filled with fear.
“Serena.”
“Who's Serena?”
“The woman Cameron attacked.”
I exchanged another glance with Naomi.
“Emily, where is she?”
“I don't know.”
She struggled to swallow.
“They threatened her little brother. That's why she changed her statement.”
I stroked her hair.
“We'll find her.”
Emily shook her head.
“You don't understand. The recording caught something Cameron didn't know was there.”
“What?”
Her eyes moved toward the door.
Then back to me.
“His father.”
I froze.
“Richard Voss?”
She nodded.
“He was in the garage. I heard him talking about money. Government money. And the sheriff.”
Naomi stepped forward.
“Emily, are you saying Richard Voss was present when the assault occurred?”
“Yes.”
“Did he participate?”
Emily closed her eyes.
“He watched Cameron hurt her.”
Silence fell over the room.
Then Emily whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Blake… when they took me from the hospital, Richard Voss came to see me himself.”
I stared at her.
“What did he say?”
May you like
Her hand trembled inside mine.
“He said Cameron was a problem he could fix. But I was a witness he couldn't afford to leave alive.”
