Richard’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he drove, the hum of the engine almost drowned out by the nervous tapping of his fingers. He had always looked forward to spending time with Deidre, especially after his wife passed four years ago. But since then, the visits had stopped, and all he had were their weekly phone calls.
Today, though, he was determined to see her. His 80th birthday was a milestone, and he wanted to celebrate it with his daughter. As his car rolled up the driveway, Richard spread his arms wide, a big grin on his face. “Surprise!” he shouted, eager to see her reaction.
Deidre appeared at the door, her face pale, her eyes red with tears. “Dad? What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Richard’s smile faltered. “I came to celebrate my birthday with you… it’s the big eight-o!” he said, trying to keep the joy in his voice, but it quickly turned to concern. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you crying?”
“It’s nothing. Everything’s fine,” Deidre replied quickly, wiping her eyes, her smile faint. “I wasn’t expecting you. This isn’t a good time, Dad. I’ve got to focus on work. I’ll call you later, okay? Dinner soon, sorry.” She shut the door in his face before he could say another word.
Confusion and worry swirled in Richard’s chest. Something wasn’t right. He stepped back, then hesitated. With a sinking feeling, he quietly walked around the side of the house and crept up to peek through the window.
Inside, two tough-looking men stood in Deidre’s sitting room, their voices low but sharp.
“Who was that?” one of them asked in a gravelly voice.
“Nobody,” Deidre answered quickly, but her voice trembled. “Just a neighbor’s kid, pulling a prank.”
“Back to business then,” the second man said coldly, his tone making Richard’s blood run cold. “You’re six months behind on your loan payments, Deidre. Mr. Marco’s getting impatient.”
“I just need more time!” Deidre pleaded, her voice desperate. “Business is sure to pick up soon… in the winter.”
“Time’s one thing you haven’t got, sweetheart,” the man growled, pulling out a gun and pointing it at her. “People who owe Mr. Marco money don’t have long to live. They end up feeding the fishes in the lake.”
Richard’s heart raced, frozen in terror. But the man only laughed, tucking the gun away as he looked around.
“Look at this dump,” he said, sneering. “Find something valuable to bring back to Mr. Marco, Danny. A businesswoman like her must have a computer or some equipment worth something.”
“I need that equipment! I can’t make money without it!” Deidre cried out, her voice breaking.
“Poor little rich girl,” the thug mocked, tapping the gun in his waistband. “Don’t be ungrateful.”
The men ransacked the house, taking what they could carry, leaving Deidre collapsed on the floor, sobbing.
Richard’s mind raced. Deidre’s business was doing well—at least that’s what she had told him. This didn’t make sense. He knew he had to do something. She needed his help.
The men loaded their haul into a van, and Richard followed them from a distance, his mind racing with questions. They stopped at a two-story brick building downtown, a place that looked more like a bar than anything else. The door was unlocked, and Richard slipped inside, unnoticed.
Inside, the men sat at a large table with several other rough-looking individuals. One of them stood up and approached Richard, his eyes narrowing.
“The club’s closed,” he grumbled, his voice low and threatening. “Come back later.”
“I’m here to discuss Deidre’s debt,” Richard replied, his voice steady despite the fear creeping up his spine.
The man’s eyes lit up with amusement. “Oh? And who are you?”
Richard’s gaze met a man seated at the head of the table. He looked like a gentleman, save for the ugly scar above his left eye. Richard figured this was Mr. Marco.
“How much does she owe you?” Richard asked, his throat tight.
Mr. Marco smiled, his expression calculating. “Deidre took out a loan for $80,000. She was supposed to pay it back from her profits, but… she never made any.”
Richard’s stomach churned. “I’ve got $20,000 in savings,” he said, voice trembling. “That’s all I have right now.”
“That’s only a quarter of what she owes,” Marco sighed. “But… there’s something you can do to make up the difference.”
Richard felt a chill run down his spine. “What do you want me to do?”
Mr. Marco leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “My partner and I are importing cars to Canada, but the paperwork’s been delayed. We need someone… trustworthy… to help us get our ‘merchandise’ across the border. You look like a kind old man. They won’t suspect you.”
Richard didn’t want to get involved, but he knew he had no choice. “Fine,” he muttered, feeling sick to his stomach.
Later that night, Richard found himself at a gas station near the border, his heart racing. He parked beside a police cruiser, trying to stay calm. But as the German Shepherd in the back began barking wildly at him, Richard’s blood ran cold.
“Jesus!” he gasped. The dog’s barking wasn’t random—something was wrong.
Richard hurriedly climbed into the car, a Valiant, and tried to drive off. The dog’s barking intensified, and soon, two police officers rushed out of the station. Richard floored the gas pedal, weaving through traffic, desperately trying to lose the cops. Sirens blared behind him, growing louder.
He spotted an unmarked dirt road ahead, leading into the forest. Without thinking, he swerved sharply, hoping to lose them. The narrow trail was treacherous, but he pushed the car forward, dodging trees and rocks.
As he came to a steep incline, Richard realized his mistake. The car was stuck—perched dangerously on a narrow ridge over a wide river. He tried to reverse, but the tires spun helplessly.
“No!” he shouted, pulling at the parking brake, but the car was sliding toward the water.
With a loud splash, the front end of the car hit the river, water rushing over the hood. Panicking, Richard shoved the door open, but the pressure from the water pushed it back, trapping his legs inside.
He fought against the rising water, pulling himself out of the car and swimming toward the riverbank. His lungs burned as he reached the shore, gasping for air. He had barely escaped death.
“I need to mortgage my house,” Richard told the bank assistant, his voice shaking with anxiety.
The bank employee processed the paperwork, and Richard felt his heart sink. His house—the home where he’d built so many memories—was now collateral. But there was no other way. He had to save Deidre.
Just as the paperwork was completed, Richard’s phone rang. It was Deidre. “Some thugs from a local gang were just here asking about you, Dad… what’s going on?”
“Tell them I’m on my way,” Richard replied, his voice firm. “I arranged to pay off your debt. We’ll talk about this later.”
A few hours later, Richard pulled into the parking lot of the club, Deidre by his side. As they walked toward the entrance, she grabbed his arm. “Dad, wait!” she called out, running toward him.
“I won’t let you face them alone,” she said, her voice steady. “I don’t know how you found out about all this or where you got the money, but I’m not leaving you to do this on your own.”
Richard looked at his daughter, the determination in her eyes telling him she wouldn’t back down. Together, they entered the club.
At the table, the thugs eyed them as Richard placed the duffel bag on the table. “Here’s the $80,000 Deidre owed you… plus another $15,000 to cover the cost of your car. I sank it in a river.”
Mr. Marco’s face twisted in anger. “You think $15,000 covers the $100,000 shipment in that car? You’re out of your mind!”
Marco grabbed the bag and tossed it to one of his thugs. “Deidre, I really believed in you. But sometimes, in business, you’ve got to cut your losses.”
The gangster pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it straight at Deidre.
Richard stepped in front of her, his voice pleading. “Please, don’t hurt her! This is my fault, not hers.”
Mr. Marco paused, his finger twitching on the trigger. But before anything could happen, the sound of police sirens filled the air. Marco cursed under his breath and turned to run.
Gunshots rang out, the chaos shaking the club. Richard grabbed Deidre and pulled her to safety, diving under a table as shots fired above them. The police stormed in, and the thugs scattered.
As the police escorted them to safety, Richard breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Marco was finally captured.
Richard’s heart still raced as the paramedic checked him over. “Are you sure you don’t have any heart problems?” the medic asked.
Richard shook his head, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. But his relief was short-lived. The detective approached, his face stern.
“What were you and your daughter doing in there?” the detective asked.
Richard explained the situation, hoping to avoid any more trouble. The detective glanced at Deidre. “If we hadn’t found the car in the river, we wouldn’t have been able to save you. Don’t get involved with people like Mr. Marco again, miss.”
Richard’s heart sank. “A car in the river?”
“Yes, it was registered to Mr. Marco’s cousin. That’s how we took this gang down.”
Richard let out a relieved breath, knowing they were in the clear.
As they left the club, Deidre turned to him, her voice full of guilt. “Dad, I owe you an apology. I dragged you into this mess.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Richard said, pulling her into a hug. “You made some bad choices, but that doesn’t make you a failure. I just wish you’d come to me sooner. I’m always here for you, Deidre.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you… how does anyone tell their dad they’ve failed?”
“You’re not a failure,” Richard said softly, his voice full of love. “We’ll get through this together.”
