“Knox.”
“Before I leave, is there anything else you can tell me from the system? Like what its condition was when it was returned?” Based on Selma’s account, the van would have shown extensive damage. She had mentioned the scraping of metal. From renting a truck in the past, Eric knew rental companies were meticulous about cataloging any damage to their vehicles both before and after.
“One second.” Jodi set the note she wrote on the desk and clicked on her keyboard. A moment later, she said, “Hmm.”
Tingles shot down Eric’s spine. He’d expected to be told the file wasmissing. “What is it?”
“Here. See for yourself.” Jodi turned the screen toward Eric and pointed out one area. “There’s a notation in the system from before it was picked up.”
Visible scuff on the driver’s front quarter panel.
“And this…” Jodi clicked her mouse, and the screen changed to another form. “This is the clerk’s notation upon its return.” She pressed her fingertip to the screen in another area.
No visible marks or damage. Vehicle in excellent condition.
“The van was returned in better condition than when it left?” Eric wanted to make sure he was reading this right.
“That’s what it says, and that’s a first for me.”
But this made sense if the cargo van was used to push Susan’s car off the road. It was returned three days after the accident, which would have allowed time for repairs to be done.And in doing so, the original marks would have also been erased. “Thanks, Jodi. I’ll be back in the morning.” Waiting wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t have much choice. He sure hoped the hostage situation was over long before tomorrow, but none of that affected his plan. He was going to get to the truth of what happened to Susan Crawford and who put her in the grave, no matter how long it took.
THIRTY-EIGHT
4:55 PM
Ryan was anxiously watching the surveillance monitors. He’d seen a man come out from around the MPD’s tactical vehicle and leave with a cop. Whoever he was. Not the reporter anyhow. So what business did he have here? And where was that reporter and her cameraman?
He was tired of waiting on other people to stand up and do the right thing. It’s why he was here. To force the matter.
His mother was a victim, and she had made him one as a result. Today he was taking back some of his power, but he still detested how much he was at the mercy of others. As he waited for the reporter and cameraman to set up at the gates, he wondered again if it was even going to happen. Had they somehow forgotten that he had other Hansons within range of his gun? Or did they even care? They had the legacy, Timothy’ssoleheir, in their hands. The progeny could continue even if this wife and these children died. He could remarry and have more kids. Life would go on for Edward Hanson, just as it had for Timothy Hanson after raping and killing his mother.Assuming he pulls through…
“Please, just let us all go. It’s over,” the woman begged, drawing his attention from the screen.
Ryan closed the distance between them. “Who do you think you are?”
She thrust out her chin, and he slapped her hard across the face.
The teenage girl sobbed, and the boy started wheezing.
“Your puffer, Bray,” the girl told him, and the boy sucked back hungrily on the thing.
“You’re not helping your kids here, lady. Just play nice, and all of you might walk away from this.”
She spit blood from her busted lip. “You keep talking about the truth coming out? Whose version? Yours? I think you just want to destroy this family because you’re bitter. You didn’t get the life you wanted. Well, boo-hoo.”
“I dare you to repeat that.”
“Boo—”
“Mom, stop! And, you, just leave us alone. Please,” the teen petitioned. “We haven’t done anything to you. If Grandpa did, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t give you no right to?—”
Ryan laughed, feeling the expression shaking his body. “No right to… What? Want amends? An apology? Justice? For the world to know their beloved Hansons aren’t the shining beacons of the community they allege to be.”
“We’ve never claimed to be perfect,” the girl said, and the mother squeezed her daughter’s shoulder.
“No one is perfect, least of all us Hansons.” Including himself as a Hanson pained him. He cursed the blood that ran through his veins. But it was the good within him, passed on to him by his mother, that let him face himself in the mirror and live with himself the last few weeks.
Just kill them and yourself… End the pain for all of you.
