Page 99 of Tiger Queen

Rachel

We swung our heads toward the voice. Anthony stood in the doorway in his boxers and a t-shirt. His face was a theater of shock as he stared at his father. Then hope filled his eyes.

“Dad? Is that really you?”

Carl let go of my arm, but kept the pressure on my head. “Anthony. Son. I’m glad you’re here.”

Anthony blinked. “What are you doing to Rachel!”

Carl turned off the band saw, then pointed at the laptop on the other end of the table. “I need you to login to your email. There’s something very important I need you to do.”

His voice was different when he addressed his son. It was almost gentle. Anthony showed us the phone in his hand. “That’s why I woke up. I got the email notification that someone was trying to add a new external bank account to the GoFundMe account.” He looked at me. “You weren’t in bed, and I couldn’t find you anywhere in the house, so I traced the login to the visitor’s center…”

“Son,” Carl said roughly, “we can talk about it later. But first, log into your email so we can approve this new account and transfer the money over.”

“But dad, how are you…”

“Do it and I’ll let Rachel go.”

Hearing the threat out loud rather than simply seeing it got through to Anthony. He blinked, and his jaw dropped, and he realized what was actually going on here. Pain twisted on his face as he realized his dad had returned only to steal the donation money. Not for any other reason.

My heart broke for him in that moment.

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” he said, so soft it was almost a whisper. “Just don’t hurt Rachel.”

He used the laptop to log into his email account. His phone buzzed as he was sent a two-factor authentication code, which he then punched in.

“Okay,” Anthony said, emotionless. “The external account is added.”

“You do it,” his father snapped. “Transfer the money over. All of it.”

“Dad…”

“DO IT!” Carl roared.

Tears ran down Anthony’s cheeks as he typed. A few seconds later he said, “It’s done.”

Carl kept the gun aimed at me and walked over to the laptop. Anthony rushed over and embraced me, and it took everything I had not to break down and sob in his arms. Carl laughed happily as he verified the transfer on the screen.

“I don’t understand,” Anthony said. Tears still ran down his face. “You were… the plane… Dad, we had your funeral. We buried an empty casket over in the Blue Lake cemetery. Next to grandma and grandpa.”

For a split second, Carl looked regretful. Like he realized the pain and suffering he had caused his family. His eyes widened and I thought he might tear up like his son.

Then he grabbed Anthony’s phone off the table, and then the laptop. “I’m sorry, son.”

He aimed the gun at us while backing up toward the door, then turned and vanished into the night.

As soon as he was gone I let out a relieved sob. Anthony held my head to his chest and made shushing noises.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry too,” I said.

We shared a quiet moment, then collected ourselves.

“We have to call the police.”

Anthony gestured at the table. “He took my phone.”

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