Chapter 19 - THE SECOND CAPTIVEPolice entered the abandoned camp at 2:26 p.m.
No media.
No cinematic line of patrol cars.
A tactical team because there were possible captives and unknown weapons.
Detective Ortiz waited outside during the initial entry.
Later she told me exactly what they found.
One main lodge.
Two cabins.
Maintenance building.
Basement beneath the old infirmary.
Door reinforced from outside.
Inside:
Emily.
Alive.
Thirty-eight years old.
Dehydrated.
Bruised.
Twenty pounds lighter than at her last medical visit.
Conscious.
And beside her, separated by a mesh partition:
Patrick Sloan.
Also alive.
His identity was confirmed only after rescue.
He had a poorly healed wrist fracture, significant weight loss, and an infected cut on his lower leg.
Neither had been chained at the camp.
The exterior door was locked.
Windows covered.
Food left irregularly.
A portable radio.
No phones.
No weapons.
Richard was not there.
He had been arrested hours earlier based on evidence already obtained and the risk he would flee.
Margaret had surrendered.
The camp caretaker had no involvement; he thought the property remained unused.
The white van belonged to Hale Renovation.
The keys were in Richard’s office.
Emily’s final location was forty-seven miles from the house where Noah first saw her.
She had been moved four times.
My text may have accelerated one of those moves.
We would never know with certainty.
Ortiz called.
I answered before the first ring finished.
“We found her.”
I stopped breathing.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Nothing else existed for several seconds.
Then:
“Claire?”
I was crying too hard.
“Can I see her?”
“Hospital first.”
“Tell her Noah is safe.”
“I will.”
“Tell her I’m coming.”
“I will.”
Then:
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“She asked whether Noah stopped the funeral.”
I laughed while crying.
“How does she know?”
“Margaret told her Richard planned one.”
I closed my eyes.
May you like
“Yes.”
“Tell her he did.”
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