Chapter 17 - Thirty Miles to Jonathan
The heater in Jonathan’s rusted Ford truck groaned, blowing lukewarm air smelling of damp wool and old motor oil. Jonathan sat behind the wheel, his knuckles white, driving down the back roads of Dutchess County with the headlights turned off, relying only on the faint moonlight filtering through the storm clouds.
In the bench seat beside him sat Sophie, wrapped in Jonathan’s canvas work jacket, her hands wrapped around a thermos of black coffee. Ryan sat by the passenger door, his PPK resting on his knee, his eyes locked on the rearview mirror.
Jonathan hadn't asked questions when they banged on his cabin door at four in the morning, covered in blood, mud, and wood soot. He had simply grabbed his keys, pulled a lockbox from behind his woodstove, and told them to get in the truck.
“Who was she, Jonathan?” Sophie’s voice broke the heavy hum of the tires on the asphalt. It was the first time she had spoken since they cleared the woods. “My mother. The woman who paid them to burn our house down.”
Jonathan’s jaw worked. For ten miles, he had kept his eyes on the road, but now a muscle in his cheek twitched with unbearable sorrow.
“Her name is Victoria Hayes,” Jonathan said, his voice deep and gravelly. “When I met her, she wasn't a congresswoman. She was a nineteen-year-old art student whose father owned every judge in this district. We were young. We were reckless. And when she got pregnant, her father locked her in a private medical facility in Rhode Island to keep his Senate campaign clean.”
“And you let Margaret buy me?” Sophie asked, her voice cracking, the betrayal cutting deeper than any bullet.
“I didn't have a choice, Sophie!” Jonathan choked out, tears finally spilling into the creases around his eyes. “Bradley Hayes told me if the baby lived, he would have me put away for life on fabricated charges. Margaret stepped in. She told me she would take the child, raise her as David’s daughter, give her a fortune, and protect her. She said David wanted a child. I believed her because I was twenty-two, broke, and terrified.”
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“And David?” Ryan asked, his voice low, dangerous. “Did David know she bought her?”
“David didn't know until the day Sophie turned six,” Jonathan whispered. “David found Margaret’s transaction ledger in the safe. He threatened to go to the federal authorities that very night. That’s why Margaret pushed Sophie off that balcony, Ryan. She wasn't trying to punish Sophie. She was trying to frame David for murder so he couldn't testify against her.”
