Chapter 8 - The Amber Alert and the Fugitive Grandmother
At 1:15 AM, the state-wide Amber Alert system blasted across every smartphone, television, and radio within a five-hundred-mile radius.
WANTED: LORRAINE VANCE. 62 YEARS OLD. FELONY CONSPIRACY TO KIDNAP, CHILD ENDANGERMENT. DRIVING BLACK FORD EXPLORER.
Social media exploded. News channels broadcast Lorraine’s smiling church-choir portrait right next to the photograph of the chair wedged outside the sewing room door. The contrast between her sweet grandmother facade and her calculated cruelty captivated the entire nation.
Thousands of comments flooded Facebook and news forums:
“Lock this monster up!”
“How could a grandmother do this to a baby?”
“The mother’s instinct saved that little girl’s life!”
Inside the motel room near Interstate 35, Lorraine was watching the television screen in mounting panic. Her face was plastered on every broadcast. The loan sharks she owed money to had cut off all communication, realizing the federal authorities were closing in.
Her phone rang. It was Jackson.
Lorraine answered with a trembling voice. “Jackson? Sweetheart? You have to help me. The police are lying! Emily set me up! Emily staged that room!”
Jackson sat in the interrogation room, surrounded by FBI technicians listening on headsets.
“Mom,” Jackson said, his voice shaking. “Where are you? Emily is threatening to take Mia away forever. I need to bring Mia to you so we can fix this.”
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Lorraine’s voice instantly turned sweet, dripping with venomous triumph. “I knew you’d understand, Jackson. I’m at the Pine Ridge Motor Inn, Room 14. Bring my sweet Chloe to me. We’ll leave tonight. We don't need Emily. We can be a real family again.”
Detective Grant gave the tactical signal.
