Chapter 17 - THE PURSUIT AT DULLES
Rain began to lash against the windshield as Miller’s unmarked cruiser screamed down the Dulles Toll Road, sirens wailing, pushing 110 miles per hour through the blinding dusk.
Daniel sat in the passenger seat, his phone buzzing constantly in his pocket. It was Emily calling. Then his father. He couldn't answer. If he answered, he would break, and right now he needed to be made of stone.
"They aren't just running, Daniel," Miller shouted over the siren. "This was Margaret’s endgame. She knew she couldn't beat the restraining order in Virginia. But under Swiss trust laws, if the legal mother is proven to have concealed a non-consensual biological parentage fraud, and the biological mother files for custody in an offshore jurisdiction where the trust is registered, the Bennett estate can tie Lily up in foreign courts for a decade."
"She’s ten years old!" Daniel screamed, punching the dashboard. "They are treating my child like an offshore investment portfolio!"
"Margaret Bennett doesn't see people, Daniel," Miller said grimly. "She sees assets."
They tore through the departures ramp at Dulles Airport at 7:10 PM. Port Authority police cruisers were already screeching to a halt outside Terminal B, blue and red strobe lights reflecting wildly against the glass facade of the international concourse.
Daniel ran alongside Miller, flashing police badges past TSA checkpoints, racing through the crowded terminal where bewildered travelers stepped aside.
Over the intercom, a mechanical voice echoed: *Swiss Air flight 842 to Zurich is now in final boarding.*
Daniel sprinted toward Gate 14.
Through the massive panoramic windows, the Boeing 777 sat connected to the jet bridge. Standing at the boarding podium, handing her passport to the gate attendant, was a slender woman in a beige trench coat with long dark hair.
"NICOLE!" Daniel’s roar shook the terminal.
The woman froze. She turned around.
It was Nicole. But she didn't look like an innocent sister who had survived trauma. Her face was tight, cold, her eyes calculating. Standing right beside her, holding a black leather briefcase, was Vance Callahan.
Callahan immediately stepped in front of her, raising his hands with a smooth, sickening smile. "Detective Miller. Mr. Bennett. You are making a terrible scene. My client is traveling on official business."
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Daniel didn't stop. He crossed the twenty yards between them in three violent strides, bypassing Miller’s outstretched arm, grabbing Callahan by his Italian silk tie, and slamming the lawyer against the reinforced glass of the boarding gate with enough force to make the heavy pane rattle.
"Where is she?" Daniel snarled, his breath hot against Callahan's face. "Where is Margaret?"
