Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Disappeared
I ran into the driveway before Nia could stop me.
"Jasmine!"
My voice echoed through the neighborhood.
The black SUV disappeared around the corner.
Deborah stood beside the garage, trembling.
I grabbed her shoulders.
"What happened?"
She could barely breathe.
"Two men. They came out of nowhere."
"Did you see their faces?"
"One was wearing a cap. The other had a mask."
I looked at the white glove lying on the concrete.
Nia came running outside.
The moment she saw it, her face drained of color.
"Mama..."
I picked it up.
"Is this yours?"
She nodded.
"I lost it at choir practice on Wednesday."
My stomach twisted.
Someone had been planning this.
They had taken Jasmine and deliberately left something belonging to Nia.
Not because they wanted to hide.
Because they wanted us afraid.
I called 911.
Then I immediately called Daniel again.
He answered while I was describing the SUV to the dispatcher.
"Daniel, they've taken Jasmine."
His voice became sharp.
"Who?"
"Two men in a black SUV."
"Did you call the police?"
"Yes."
"Good. Tell them everything. Don't accuse anyone without evidence, but document every detail."
I heard a car engine start on his end.
"I'm coming, Aunt Evelyn."
I returned inside with Nia and Deborah.
Neither of them spoke.
Twenty minutes later, two patrol cars arrived.
One officer interviewed me.
The other walked around the driveway taking photographs.
I recognized neither man.
That gave me a little comfort.
Until another vehicle pulled up.
Detective Anthony Bell stepped out.
He wore a dark suit and carried a leather notebook.
"Evelyn," he said warmly. "I heard there was trouble."
My skin crawled.
I remembered seeing his name on Deborah's documents.
I forced myself to remain calm.
"Someone took a young woman from my driveway."
Bell nodded sympathetically.
"We'll do everything we can."
He glanced toward Nia.
"Miss Carter, I've been trying to reach you about your earlier complaint."
Nia moved behind me.
I stepped forward.
"She doesn't have anything to say without an attorney."
Bell's smile faded.
"An attorney?"
"That's correct."
He studied my face.
Then he nodded.
"Of course."
He asked whether I had any evidence identifying the kidnappers.
I told him about the SUV.
I didn't mention the flash drive.
And when he asked whether Jasmine had been involved in any church disputes, I said only that she was a family friend.
Bell watched me carefully.
Finally, he closed his notebook.
"We'll be in touch."
As he walked toward his vehicle, his phone rang.
He answered before opening the door.
I couldn't hear the conversation.
But I saw him glance back at my house.
Then he smiled.
A cold, satisfied smile.
I knew then that calling the local police wasn't enough.
I needed someone who couldn't be controlled by Pastor Marcus.
Daniel arrived shortly after midnight.
He came straight from the airport in a rental car, carrying a briefcase and looking exhausted.
I met him at the door.
For one second, he was the little boy who used to spend summers in my kitchen.
Then he pulled me into his arms.
"Aunt Evelyn."
I started crying.
I had been strong all day.
I had shouted in church.
I had confronted a pastor.
I had comforted my daughter.
But standing in my nephew's arms, I finally felt the terror I had been holding back.
"They took Jasmine," I whispered.
Daniel held me tighter.
"We're going to do everything we can to bring her home."
He brought in another person.
A Black woman in her forties with short natural hair and a calm expression.
"This is Attorney Rachel Brooks," Daniel explained. "She's a friend. She specializes in financial crimes and whistleblower cases."
Rachel shook my hand.
"I understand you have some documents we need to review."
I led them into the kitchen.
For the next two hours, we examined everything.
The ring.
The property records.
The church financial statements.
The envelope.
And finally, the silver flash drive.
Daniel used a separate computer he had brought with him.
He didn't connect it to my home internet.
When the files appeared, Nia began trembling.
There were dozens of folders.
Bank transfers.
Audio recordings.
Scanned signatures.
Photographs of meetings.
And one video.
The video showed Pastor Marcus sitting at a conference table with Raymond Price and Detective Bell.
The date was from eleven years earlier.
Three days before Samuel died.
Marcus's voice came through the speakers.
"Samuel has become a problem."
My entire body went cold.
Raymond leaned forward.
"He found the property transfers."
Bell looked irritated.
"Then convince him to sign the confidentiality agreement."
Marcus shook his head.
"He won't."
Raymond's voice became quieter.
"Then we need another solution."
The recording ended.
I couldn't move.
Samuel's name.
His investigation.
Three men discussing how to silence him.
All recorded days before his death.
Rachel paused the video.
"Do you know who recorded this?"
Nia shook her head.
"Mrs. Collins said Rebecca had installed a hidden recording system years before. She gave me some archived files."
Daniel frowned.
"But Rebecca disappeared fourteen years ago."
"Apparently someone kept copying new recordings into the same archive," Rachel said.
My heart pounded.
"Who?"
She glanced at the screen.
"That's what we need to establish."
Daniel examined the file dates.
"Some of these recordings were added years after Rebecca vanished."
He opened another folder.
Inside was a photograph of Samuel's truck.
The vehicle was parked outside a repair shop.
A man stood beside the driver's door.
His face was partly hidden.
But I recognized the jacket.
Anthony Bell had worn it often when he attended church.
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
Rachel leaned closer.
"This photograph alone doesn't prove wrongdoing. But it's important."
Daniel saved a copy.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the caller ID.
"Unknown number."
Rachel gestured for him to answer on speaker.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice whispered, "Are you Samuel Carter's family?"
My breath caught.
Daniel answered carefully.
"Who is this?"
"Tell Evelyn her husband was right."
I gripped the table.
"Who are you?"
The woman hesitated.
Then she said, "My name is Rebecca Hayes."
Deborah let out a strangled gasp.
Marcus's missing secret wife.
The woman everyone believed had disappeared forever.
I leaned toward the phone.
"Rebecca? Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Do you know what happened to my husband?"
Her voice broke.
"Yes."
Tears blurred my vision.
"Then please. Tell me."
There was a pause.
"I tried to warn Samuel. I tried to stop them."
My knees weakened.
Daniel pulled out a chair for me.
"Rebecca," he said, "we need to arrange a safe meeting."
"I can't come to the police."
"Then we'll find another way."
She began crying quietly.
"Marcus knows I'm alive now."
I felt a chill.
"How?"
"Because someone told him I contacted Mrs. Collins."
Rachel exchanged a worried look with Daniel.
Rebecca continued.
"Listen carefully. Jasmine wasn't taken because of Nia."
My breath stopped.
"Then why?"
"Because Jasmine knows where I am."
I stared at the phone.
"What?"
Rebecca began speaking faster.
"She was helping me. She knows where I've been hiding. If they make her talk, Marcus will find me."
Daniel leaned toward the speaker.
"Rebecca, tell us where Jasmine might have been taken."
"I don't know. But there is a place Raymond uses outside town."
"What place?"
"A property called Willow Creek."
I remembered the name.
It was an old church retreat center.
Samuel used to take youth groups there.
Rebecca's voice grew faint.
"Please hurry."
Then the line went dead.
I stared at Daniel.
He was already calling a federal law enforcement contact.
I looked toward Nia.
My daughter was shaking.
I took her hand.
For the first time in eleven years, I felt the truth about Samuel's death moving toward me.
May you like
But now another innocent young woman was in danger.
And I knew the next decision could cost us everything.
