Chapter 6 - THE RESCUE MISSIONBy midnight, my Ford Explorer was idling quietly at the end of my father’s suburban street in Raleigh.
The house was dark except for a dim light glowing in the upstairs master bedroom. According to Dot, Vanessa had driven out to meet her attorney for a late-night strategy session, leaving my father alone in the house with the security system armed.
I didn't use the front door. Instead, I walked around the side, bypassing the motion sensors I knew from childhood, and tapped softly on the back kitchen window.
A moment later, the window slid open an inch, and Dot’s wrinkled face appeared.
"Thank God," she whispered, unlatching the back door. "He’s in the den. He’s sleeping, but he’s running a mild fever from stress."
I stepped inside the quiet kitchen—the kitchen where my mother’s walnut cabinets had been ripped out and replaced with cold, modern chrome. I walked straight down the hallway to the den.
My father was slumped in his favorite leather armchair, looking smaller and frailer than I had ever seen him. A glass of water sat untouched on the side table, and a pile of legal notices signed by Preston Cole lay scattered across his lap.
I knelt beside him and gently touched his hand. "Dad. Wake up."
His eyes fluttered open. He blinked sluggishly, focusing on my face through the dim light. "Christine? What... what are you doing here?"
"I’m taking you home," I said softly.
"No, I can't... Vanessa will be furious. She said if I leave, she’ll—"
"Vanessa isn't here, Dad, and she’s never going to hurt you again," I interrupted, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and helping him up. "Dot has your bag in the car. We’re leaving."
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As we walked out the back door and loaded him into the passenger seat of my Explorer, a pair of headlights swept down the street.
Vanessa’s luxury SUV pulled into the driveway, blocking our exit.
