Chapter 3 - The Sound No Husband Could Ignore
Ethan ran into the living room and crawled behind the large sofa near the window.
He had hidden there during games many times, but never because a stranger was chasing him.
The phone remained in his hand.
Michael could hear his son breathing into the microphone.
“Don’t speak,” Michael whispered. “Just listen to me.”
Heavy footsteps entered the living room.
They stopped.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then the man spoke.
“Ethan?”
Michael felt a shock run through him.
The stranger knew his son’s name.
“It’s okay,” the man continued. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Ethan pressed his hands over his mouth.
The footsteps moved slowly around the room.
Michael could picture every step.
Past the television.
Past the small table where Ethan kept his coloring books.
Closer to the sofa.
Then Emily appeared somewhere behind the man.
“Leave him alone!”
Her voice sounded weak, but desperate.
A struggle followed.
Furniture scraped across the floor.
The stranger cursed.
Michael shouted into the phone despite knowing it might reveal Ethan’s location.
“Get away from my family!”
The apartment went silent.
The man had heard him.
For the first time, the stranger addressed Michael directly.
“So you’re listening.”
Michael gripped the phone harder.
“Who are you?”
A short laugh came through the speaker.
“You should ask your wife.”
“Touch my son and the police will bury you.”
“The police?”
The man sounded almost amused.
“They won’t understand what they find here.”
In the distance, faint sirens became audible.
Ethan heard them too.
The stranger did not speak for several seconds.
Then his footsteps changed direction.
He moved quickly back toward the bedroom.
Emily shouted something Michael could not understand.
A door slammed.
“Ethan,” Michael said. “Stay hidden until the police enter.”
The sirens grew louder.
Red and blue lights began flashing through the living room window.
Someone pounded on the front door.
“Police! Open the door!”
Ethan almost crawled out, but Michael stopped him.
“Wait until they say your name.”
The officers struck the door again.
“Ethan Turner! This is the police! Call out if you can hear us!”
“I’m here!” Ethan screamed.
The front door burst open moments later.
Several officers entered, weapons raised.
One found Ethan behind the sofa and lifted him into his arms.
Another team moved down the hallway toward the bedroom.
Michael remained on the phone, listening helplessly.
“Police! Show your hands!”
A loud crash followed.
Then shouting.
Then a gunshot.
Michael’s knees nearly gave way.
He sank onto the hotel bed.
“Emily!”
Nobody answered him.
The line was filled with confusion.
Commands.
Running.
The sound of glass breaking.
Then an officer picked up Ethan’s phone.
“Mr. Turner?”
“Yes.”
“We have your son. He’s safe.”
“My wife?”
A pause.
Too long.
“Your wife is alive, but she’s injured.”
“And the man?”
The officer did not answer directly.
“We’re still searching the residence.”
Michael stared at the dark hotel window.
“What do you mean searching? He was in the bedroom.”
“The bedroom is empty.”
“That’s impossible.”
“The window is open.”
Michael remembered their apartment was on the seventh floor.
“There’s no fire escape outside that window.”
“We know.”
The officer’s voice lowered.
“But there’s something else you need to understand.”
May you like
Michael waited.
“We found a passage behind the bedroom wardrobe.”
