Chapter 7 - The Frame Job
I dropped the burner phone onto the wet pavement in pure horror.
I slowly turned around and looked at my own truck.
I ran to the back of my vehicle and quickly unlocked the tailgate.
I lifted the heavy tonneau cover with shaking, hesitant hands.
Richard was lying in the bed of the truck, gasping desperately for air.
His pristine suit was soaked in dark red blood from a massive stomach wound.
"Harrison," Richard choked out, his eyes wide with agonizing fear.
"Who did this to you?" I asked, grabbing an old towel to apply pressure to his wound.
Richard grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong for a dying man.
"They took her, Harrison," he whispered, coughing up dark blood.
"Who took her?" I pleaded.
"The men from the lighting booth," he gasped softly.
"They used me to get her out of the building, and then they betrayed me."
Suddenly, the deafening wail of police sirens pierced the quiet afternoon air.
Three state trooper cruisers swarmed the abandoned rest stop, completely surrounding my truck.
Armed officers jumped out, aiming their weapons directly at my chest.
"Drop the weapon and step away from the body!" an officer commanded over a loudspeaker.
I looked down at my hands in complete shock.
I was still holding the bloody tire iron, standing right over my dying father-in-law.
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The man on the phone hadn't just kidnapped my little girl.
He had perfectly framed me for a brutal murder.
