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Chapter 6 - Brandon’s Sun-Tanned Arrival and the Police Intercept

At precisely 2:55 PM, a silver rental minivan pulled into the driveway of our Dublin home.

I sat in the center of the dark living room, sitting on the armchair with my legs crossed, a steaming mug of black coffee in my hands. The curtains were drawn.

Outside, two unmarked police cruisers and four uniformed officers were staged silently around the perimeter of the backyard and the garage entrance.

The car doors slammed shut outside.

I heard Brandon’s booming, cheerful voice echoing through the driveway:

“Alright, kids! Grab your boogie boards and the souvenir bags! Let’s get unpacked before Mom gets back from Milwaukee tomorrow!”

The front deadbolt clicked.

The door swung open.

Brandon walked in first, wearing khaki shorts, flip-flops, a vibrant tropical linen shirt, and dark sunglasses pushed up onto his sun-tanned forehead. In his arms were two oversized shopping bags filled with SeaWorld merchandise, plush toys, and custom beach towels.

Behind him walked Lucas and Alyssa, both deeply tanned, carrying bags of saltwater taffy and seashells.

Brandon took two steps into the entryway, looked around at the cold, unlit house, and suddenly stopped.

Sitting on the sofa across from him was me.

And standing on either side of the entryway, stepping silently out from the shadows of the dining room, were Detective Ramirez and two armed, uniformed patrol officers.

Brandon’s smile vanished instantly. His eyebrows shot up in irritation, not fear.

“Evelyn?” Brandon scoffed, setting the shopping bags down on the floor. “What are you doing back early? And why the hell are there police in our living room?”

I didn't raise my voice. I didn't scream.

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I set my coffee mug down on the table, picked up a thick manila folder containing the airline cancellation receipt, the printed text logs, the refrigerator note, and the felony arrest warrant, and laid it squarely between us.

“Where is Liam, Brandon?” I asked, my voice flat, cold, and razor-sharp.

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