I wanted this nightmare to be over. I wanted my children safe and in my home. I wanted, desperately, to have my wife in my arms, accepting my apologies and renewed vows of love. I needed Mike Newton Sr. and Renee to be punished for their horrific crimes against my wife and children.
“Edward, we need to finish wiring you,” Detective Bettson murmured, holding a tiny wire.
“Where is it going?” I asked, my voice sounding hollow.
“Chest,” she said, grimacing slightly. With a sigh, I unbuttoned my shirt where she taped the wire to my chest, just above my heart. Looping it through my shirt, she attached to a tiny receiver that was wrapped around my torso. The final step was an ear piece, so I could be told what to do. I couldn’t really communicate with them, but knowing that they were in my head was helpful and somewhat comforting.
I would be driving the getaway vehicle to the drop off point. Following behind us, in a RV, would be Detective Sanchez, Agent Jones and my father, in case the girls were injured. Secretly, I was praying that Mike would have a human moment, bringing my daughters and my wife, but I knew my prayers would go unanswered. Mike was hell-bent on revenge and my wife, if we didn’t get to her in time, was going to pay the ultimate price.
“Edward, Bettson, Charlie’s got something,” said one of the police officers in that had invaded my home.
“Do you want Goss and Jones?” Detective Bettson asked.
“Charlie said no.”
I buttoned my shirt, tucking it into my jeans as I followed the detective into my office. Inside, Charlie was on Detective Sanchez’s computer with Sanchez looking over his shoulder and the captain of the precinct glaring angrily at the screen. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Close the door,” Charlie commanded. Detective Bettson shut the door, frowning slightly. “Something was not sitting right with Agent Goss. He’s awfully jumpy for a federal agent.”
“Plus, he doesn’t have the trust of his partner,” Sanchez smirked grimly.
“So, I did some digging. It appears that Goss has gotten himself into a little bit of trouble,” Charlie snorted humorlessly. “Goss has over $750,000 in gambling debt. He enjoys the craps tables a little too much. It all started nearly three years ago when his wife left him for a younger man in a much more stable job. There was no spousal support or child support, but the attorney that Goss hired was insanely expensive. So, to try and pay him off, Goss started gambling.”
“Why do I think that there is more?” Bettson asked, arching her brow.