Chapter 2 - The Tracker
I grabbed the heavy brass lamp from the bedside table, ready to swing at whoever breached the door.
My father grabbed a glass ashtray, positioning himself between the door and where my mother held Keaton.
Suddenly, the doorknob stopped rattling, and heavy footsteps began to walk away down the hallway.
I didn't let my guard down, watching through the peephole until the hallway was completely empty.
"We have to leave right now, through the fire escape," I instructed, tossing our few belongings into my bag.
"How did he find us so quickly?" my mother cried, rushing to put Keaton's shoes on his tiny feet.
That question echoed in my mind, making me realize we were carrying something that was giving our location away.
I snatched Keaton's shoe from my mother's hand and tore out the inner sole.
A small, black disc with a blinking red light was perfectly wedged into the foam of the shoe.
Donald had bugged his own son to ensure my parents could never truly hide.
I flushed the tracker down the hotel toilet and hurried my family out the back stairwell into the humid night air.
We walked for three miles in the shadows until we found a twenty-four-hour diner where we could sit safely in a brightly lit booth.
I finally had a moment to open my banking app and lock down the funds.
As I pulled up the transaction history, a glaring anomaly caught my eye.
The monthly transfers hadn't been going to Donald's personal account for the last three years.
They were being routed to an offshore corporate entity called Ashley Holdings.
He had been funneling every single penny into a shell company named after his mistress.
I clicked on the business details, trying to find a registered address or phone number.
The screen loaded to reveal the principal owner of the company.
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It wasn't Donald or Ashley.
The sole owner listed on the official documents was Brenda, my mother-in-law.
