Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Chicago
The clinic was locked down immediately. Sarah stood at the front doors, turning away bewildered parents with excuses of a sudden plumbing emergency, while local patrol units were dispatched to surround the block.
In Dr. Logan Miller’s private consultation office, Maya sat wrapped in a warm fleece blanket, sipping chamomile tea with honey. Her infected molar throbbed, but a local numbing gel applied by Sarah had brought the worst of the pain under control. She refused to let go of Logan’s hand, her small fingers locked around his thumb with surprising strength.
Marcus Vance paced the length of the small office, his phone pressed hard against his ear.
“I don't care what jurisdiction it is, get a warrant for the residence on Oak Ridge Lane right now!” Marcus barked into the phone. “And check the missing children’s database for a female child, eight years old, answering to Maya or matching dental records from the greater Chicago area. Go!”
He snapped the phone shut and dropped it onto Logan’s desk.
“Well?” Logan asked quietly, pouring a fresh cup of coffee.
“Veronica is sitting in the back of a squad car right now, refusing to say a word without her high-priced divorce lawyers,” Marcus muttered, running a hand over his face. “She thought she could slip out of Illinois and lay low in Columbus. But she made one fatal mistake.”
“What’s that?”
“She brought the child into a dental clinic with open community hours,” Marcus said grimly. “And she ran into a dentist who actually looked at more than just teeth.”
Logan looked down at Maya. The little girl gave him a tiny, hesitant smile—the first real smile he had seen since she walked into his office.
“What did she mean about the basement?” Logan asked.
Marcus’s expression darkened. “Arthur Vance is Veronica’s husband—or rather, my estranged cousin. Arthur is a disgraced pharmaceutical investor who lost his fortune in speculative biotech a few years back. Rumor had it he went off the deep end, turning his sprawling estate outside Columbus into a fortress of isolation. But nobody knew about kids.”
“She said there are other children down there,” Maya whispered, her voice barely above a breath. She looked up at Marcus with haunting maturity. “The man with the cold hands locks the doors at night. He brings them in white vans. One girl tried to run away last month. He… he put her in the back room.”
Logan felt a sick, heavy weight settle in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't just a kidnapping case. It was something far darker—a human trafficking or illegal adoption ring operating right in the quiet suburbs of Ohio.
May you like
And Arthur Vance’s estate was less than ten miles away.
---
