Chapter 7
They caught Thomas Voss three days later.
He was hiding out in a motel on the edge of town. The police found him with a suitcase full of cash, a fake ID, and a gun.
Detective Carter called me personally.
"He's in custody," he said. "He's already asking for a lawyer. But we have enough evidence to put him away for a very long time."
"Thank you," I said. The relief was overwhelming.
"Mr. Anderson," Detective Carter said. "There's something else. Thomas talked. Before he asked for his lawyer. He said something about Rachel that you should know."
"What?"
"He said Rachel wasn't just planning to take Emily," he said carefully. "She was planning to sell her. There's a black market for children. International. Rachel had a contact. A buyer."
The world went red.
Sell her.
My daughter. My beautiful, innocent little girl.
Rachel was going to sell her.
"Are you sure?" I whispered. My voice was barely audible.
"Thomas confirmed it," Detective Carter said. "He said Rachel thought she could get a lot of money for a young, healthy American girl. That's why she was so careful to keep Emily away from doctors and schools that might ask too many questions. She wanted to keep her 'valuable.'"
I felt sick. I leaned against the wall, trying not to throw up.
All those times Rachel had kept Emily home from school. All those times she'd refused to let her go to birthday parties or playdates.
I thought she was just being overprotective.
She was protecting her investment.
"Mr. Anderson?" Detective Carter's voice came through the phone. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah," I managed. "I'm here."
"The contact Rachel was working with," he continued. "We're looking into him too. But Thomas says the deal was supposed to happen next week. If you hadn't walked in when you did..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence.
Emily would be gone. Sold to some stranger in another country. I would never have seen her again.
I hung up the phone and slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.
My hands were shaking.
Sell her.
The words kept repeating in my head.
How could someone be so evil? So cruel?
Emily was a human being. A child. With hopes and dreams and a smile that could light up a room.
And Rachel had seen her as nothing more than merchandise.
"Daddy?"
I looked up. Emily was standing in the hallway, holding her stuffed rabbit. She looked at me with concern.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I held out my arms. She came over and sat on my lap.
"I'm okay, baby," I said. I held her tightly. "I'm just really glad you're here with me."
"I'm glad too," she said. She snuggled against my chest. "I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, Emily. More than anything."
I sat there for a long time, just holding her.
Later that day, I told Megan what the detective had said.
She cried.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "That poor baby."
"She's safe now," I said. "We're both safe."
But I couldn't shake the feeling of horror.
The trial was set for three months later.
Karen worked tirelessly, building our case. She gathered evidence. Witness statements. Medical records showing the abuse Emily had suffered.
The child psychologist interviewed Emily. Her report was damning.
"Emily shows clear signs of prolonged emotional and physical abuse," the psychologist wrote. "She has been conditioned to fear her stepmother. She exhibits symptoms of complex trauma. However, her bond with her father is strong and healthy. He is her primary source of safety and comfort."
The prosecution's case against Rachel and Thomas was overwhelming.
They had the text messages between them. The bank records. The fake passports. The plane tickets. The ATM footage. Thomas's confession.
And Emily's recorded testimony.
I watched it in Karen's office before the trial.
Emily sat in a small room with the psychologist. She was nervous at first, twisting her rabbit's ears.
But then she started talking.
She talked about being dragged across the floor. About being yelled at. About being told she was bad.
She talked about being afraid to tell me. Because Rachel had threatened to hurt me.
And then she talked about the day I came home.
"Daddy saved me," she said simply. "He came home and he held me. And I knew everything would be okay."
I cried watching it.
Karen put her hand on my shoulder. "She's a brave little girl, James."
"She's the bravest person I know," I said.
The trial was short.
The evidence was too strong. Rachel and Thomas's lawyers couldn't defend them.
Rachel tried to claim she was innocent. That Thomas had forced her. That she loved Emily.
No one believed her.
Thomas took a plea deal. He testified against Rachel in exchange for a lighter sentence.
He told the court everything.
How they'd planned it. How Rachel had targeted me at the support group. How she'd manipulated her way into my life.
How they'd planned to take Emily and sell her.
The courtroom was silent as he spoke.
I looked at Rachel. She stared straight ahead, her face blank. No remorse. No emotion.
She really was a monster.
The jury deliberated for only two hours.
They found both Rachel and Thomas guilty on all charges.
Child abuse. Conspiracy to commit kidnapping. Fraud. Identity theft.
And for Rachel, human trafficking.
The judge sentenced Rachel to forty years in prison.
Thomas got twenty-five.
As the officers led them away, Rachel looked at me.
Her eyes were cold. Empty.
She didn't say anything. She didn't need to.
I knew what she was thinking.
She'd lost.
And I'd won.
I walked out of the courtroom and into the hallway.
Emily was there with Megan. She saw me and ran over.
"Daddy!" she yelled.
I picked her up and spun her around.
"It's over, baby," I said. "It's all over."
Emily hugged me tightly. "Can we go home now?"
May you like
I looked at Megan. She was smiling through tears.
"Yeah," I said. "We can go home."
