My parents told Grandma they were taking her out to lunch. Three hours later, a nursing facility called me. Her suitcase was sitting in their lobby, and my parents were nowhere to be found. I drove 190 miles to bring her back with me. She clicked her seatbelt into place, looked straight at me, and said, “Don’t call them. I’ll tell you exactly where we’re going.”

My father collapsed onto the hardwood floor like a sack of heavy concrete.

My mother screamed hysterically and dropped to her knees beside him.

"You broke his jaw," she shrieked while checking his bleeding mouth.

The police sirens were now blaring right outside the living room window.

Blue and red lights flashed intensely across the bare walls of the house.

"We have to go right now," I yelled while grabbing Grandma by the sleeve.

We ran through the kitchen and burst out the back door into the overgrown garden.

I could hear heavy boots kicking open the front door behind us.

We scrambled over the wooden fence and dropped into the neighboring alleyway.

Parked illegally near the dumpsters was my father's brand new luxury sedan.

The engine was still running, and the driver's side door was wide open.

"Get in," I ordered as I practically threw my grandmother into the passenger seat.

I slid behind the wheel, shifted into drive, and slammed the accelerator to the floor.

We tore out of the alley just as two police officers ran into the backyard with their guns drawn.

I checked the rearview mirror and saw them frantically speaking into their shoulder radios.

We sped through the residential backstreets, desperately trying to avoid major intersections.

"We need a place to hide and figure out our next move," Grandma said breathlessly.

I pulled into the dark parking garage of an abandoned shopping mall on the edge of town.

The silence in the concrete structure was heavy and completely suffocating.

I killed the engine and rested my forehead against the steering wheel.

"We are officially fugitives," I whispered into the darkness.

Grandma unbuckled her seatbelt and reached toward the dashboard controls.

She pressed the button to pop the electronic trunk lock.

"What are you doing?" I asked her in total confusion.

"Robert never leaves his car running unless he has something highly valuable inside it," she explained.

We both got out of the car and walked slowly around to the open trunk.

The dim trunk light flickered, revealing a massive black duffel bag.

I unzipped the heavy canvas material and gasped aloud at the contents.

The bag was completely filled with tightly banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

When my newborn 'passed away,' my mother-in-law leaned in and said

My Husband Left Me Alone in My Car While I Was in Labor

“You’re Dead When We Get Home,” He Snapped

Sitting perfectly on top of the cash was a thick, classified FBI dossier.

The name printed boldly across the top of the federal file was my own.

Chapter 5 - The Trunk