Page 63 of Not Our Daughter

“Please, Jack. Candace is already dead. We can’t ever change that. It might have been because of something you unwittingly helped her with. That’s not your fault. But if you sit here and do nothing, her daughter might be next. And that’s on you.”

Jack sighed. “All right, yeah, I mean, I might be able to still access it. If I can still find the platform I used. That was a long time ago.”

He slid his stool over to the counter, where he set the gun down and reached for a laptop. After opening it, Jack quickly went to work, typing away, his face close to the screen. Cole took that moment to quickly text Lisa again:You guys still good?He expected to receivean instant thumbs-up reply. But nothing came back. He waited a few seconds more and then texted again:Lisa?Still no response. He stood, moved to the corner of the studio, and called her. The phone rang four times and went to an automated voicemail. He called it again. Same thing. Cole cursed. What was going on? Where were they? Had something happened? He could feel a chill race through him. Something was wrong. He needed to go find them.

“I’ve got it!” Jack said from across the room.

Cole rushed over. Jack turned the laptop to face him. It showed a sent folder on some obscure private email system with only one message in it.

“You were right, man,” Jack said. “She sent this email the morning of her death. I can’t believe it. This makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Can you open it?”

“I’d rather not see what’s in it.”

“Okay. Can you download it for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” He quickly stuck a tiny thumb drive into his laptop, typed on his keyboard again, and then pulled out the drive. “This will be the only copy. Because I’m deleting this as soon as you leave. If what you’re saying is true about the person involved, I have no interest in knowing more. I like my life the way it is.”

“I understand. Thanks, Jack.”

Cole bolted for the door.

He had to find his family.

Forty-Nine

Cole was only three steps outside the building, back on the overly crowded sidewalks of Sixth Street, music pumping everywhere, when he suddenly felt a strong hand clutch his left arm from behind. And then a hard pointed object was jabbed squarely into the middle of his back, causing him to grimace. He tried to turn around but was held firmly in place by whoever was behind him. He heard a deep voice at the back of his head.

“No sudden movements. Just walk.”

Cole was shoved forward. The object in his back was obviously a gun. Who was behind him? It was clearly not the FBI. They would’ve identified themselves. The man stayed very close to him, guiding him in and out of sidewalk traffic, never more than a foot away. When they passed the next bar window, Cole took a quick peek over and cursed. The stocky guy. He could see him in the reflection. How was this even possible? How had the guy found them all the way in Austin? Cole was surprised he was not already shot dead. But he knew it was coming soon. The guy was probably just waiting to get clear of the crowd.

Cole felt his heart surge up into his throat. Where were Lisa and Jade? Had this guy already grabbed them? Was that why they didn’t answer the phone? The last question in his head almost made him bend over and vomit all over the sidewalk. Could they already be dead?

They kept walking closely together, weaving in and out of the crowds. Cole looked at all the happy faces coming toward him. Could no one tell the guy had a gun pressed against his back? There was no way to alert them with just his eyes. Cole glanced up ahead, spotted two uniformed officers up on police horses. Before, he wanted no part of them. Now he was desperate to somehow grab their attention without getting shot in the process. But the stocky guy seemed to know exactly what was going through his mind.

“Don’t be stupid, Cole,” the guy whispered into his ear. “Keep walking.”

They moved past the police horsemen. They were approaching the end of the building strip at the next street corner. Cole suspected they would be taking a right. And then he’d probably be shoved into an alley and immediately shot. He had to do something. He had to get away. He had to find his wife and daughter. He refused to believe they were already dead. This couldn’t be the end for them. As expected, they veered off to the right at the next street. The cross sidewalk was thankfully still crowded. He needed more time to figure something out. Was it possible for him to spin and catch the guy in the stomach with an elbow? Could he somehow knock the gun out like he’d been able to do back in the alley in Winter Park? He had to try. He wasn’t going to just stand there and take a bullet.

But then something unexpected happened. Cole heard a loud and hollow thumping sound—like a metal bat hitting a softball—and then the stocky man tumbled forward into him and lost his balance. Cole turned to see what was happening. The guy’s eyes had rolled back in his head. He was trying to grab on to Cole to keep from falling. He gripped Cole’s hoodie, but he couldn’t hold himself up. The gun dropped out of his other hand and hit the sidewalk. Then he let go of Cole’s clothing and toppled face-first to the pavement. Cole heard something crack in the guy’s face. People around them gasped at the sudden violence. Cole spun around, looked behind him. He was stunned to see Lisa standing there holding a short metal pipe of some sort in her shaky hands. Jadewas right behind her. He blew out forcefully. They were alive. They hadn’t been apprehended or shot. His wife had just saved him. But how had she known what was happening to him? And why were they in the crowd in the first place? It didn’t matter right now. They weren’t going to stay alive for long if they didn’t immediately get moving. The stocky guy was grunting in pain and already trying to push himself up off the concrete.

“Come on!” Cole yelled at them. “This way!”

Together, they raced forward, away from the stocky guy. They shifted through another group of people before Cole led them into a dirty alley behind the building strip on Sixth Street. It was filled with metal dumpsters, stacks of boxes, trash, and even a few sleeping homeless men. Cole briefly paused to look behind them, searching for the stocky guy, while still yelling at his girls to keep going. How badly was the guy hurt? His skull had taken a beating. Was he still able to pursue them? He got his answer a second later, when the stocky guy suddenly appeared at the end of the alley, stumbling but still moving quickly. Cole spun around, again sprinted forward, his girls just up ahead of him. He then heard the now familiarthump!of the guy’s gun and ducked his head. He felt nothing. Lisa and Jade were still moving. The guy had missed.

“Keep running!” Cole yelled after his girls.

Jade was in front with Lisa behind her. Cole made sure to stay directly behind Lisa in case more bullets started flying. He would do whatever it took to protect his girls right now. But they had to get away. After everything they’d been through for the past thirteen years, they were so close to potential freedom. He had to believe whatever was in Candace’s email—along with the other evidence they had collected—was all they needed to finally prove their innocence. He certainly wanted to get the opportunity.

Anotherthump!rang out, and Cole saw a box directly in front of them explode. A back door from one of the Sixth Street bars openedahead. A woman stepped out with two trash bags in her hands and walked over toward a dumpster. Cole saw an opportunity.

“Inside the door!” he yelled toward his girls.

They both listened and darted through the open door into what looked like a busy kitchen area. But Cole didn’t join them. Instead, he shut the door behind them and took off running again. It was a calculated risk. Left with the choice to follow his wife and daughter into a crowded bar or continue pursuing him, Cole guessed the stocky guy would choose him. He sprinted to the end of the alley, stepped out onto another busy sidewalk, and took a glance back. He’d figured right. The stocky guy remained on his heels. Cole spun back around, darted through a side street, barely avoiding being taken out by a black Camaro. He hit the next sidewalk at full speed, ran south toward Fifth Street. He heard anotherthump!and felt his left earlobe flutter and then start to sting. Had the bullet just hit his ear? Was the shot that close to his head? He had to get off the main sidewalk or the guy would have easy target practice.

He approached a parking garage, hopped over a short concrete wall to get inside, and accelerated up a ramp where cars were stacked up on both sides. Within a couple of seconds, he was out of view from the main level. Cole knew he had a choice to make. Keep running up levels and figure out what to do near the top. Or try to hide and see if he could double back once the stocky guy passed by him. He chose the latter. He would have to hide eventually. He tucked himself in behind a blue Jeep Wrangler with huge mud tires, slid to the floor, and tried to catch his breath. It was difficult. He was panting so hard. Cole reached up, touched his left earlobe, and pulled his hand away. It was covered in blood, which he could now feel dripping down the side of his neck. He had been inches away from death.

---