What Frank Wanted
Chapter 08 - What Frank Wanted
The phone records Carol provided led Castillo's team to a motel eleven miles from the wedding venue, a modest, roadside establishment where Frank Bishop had checked in three days earlier under his own name, apparently unconcerned about being traced.
"He's not hiding," Castillo told Walter and Ryan, reviewing her findings that evening in the lodge's small business office, Emma present but seated slightly apart, arms wrapped around herself. "Which tells me something important about his mindset. Men who genuinely fear consequences tend to hide their movements more carefully. He's either extremely confident, or he wants to be found."
"What do you think he actually wants," Ryan asked.
"Based on the pattern with Carol, and the workplace confrontation four years ago, I believe this is primarily financial," Castillo said. "He's identified Emma as someone now connected to considerable family wealth, through your family, and I believe he's positioning himself to make some kind of demand before or during the wedding, when he calculates she'll be most vulnerable to paying simply to avoid a public scene."
Emma felt sick at the specific, calculated cruelty of that theory, understanding that even now, years removed from the direct abuse, Frank apparently still viewed her primarily as something to extract value from rather than a person he'd once been responsible for protecting.
"Can we arrest him," Walter asked. "Based on the letter alone."
"The letter constitutes clear evidence of stalking and harassment," Castillo said. "I've already begun the process for an emergency protective order, which I expect to have finalized by tomorrow morning at the latest. That gives us legal authority to have him removed and arrested immediately if he approaches Emma or this property directly."
"Tomorrow morning," Ryan repeated. "The wedding is this afternoon."
Castillo's expression remained carefully professional, though Emma could see the specific concern underneath it. "I'm aware of the timeline. I'm going to have officers stationed discreetly around the venue for the ceremony itself, in addition to your family's private security. I want to be direct with you both. I can't guarantee he won't attempt something before the protective order is formally in place, but I can guarantee we'll be prepared to respond immediately if he does."
Emma sat with the specific, exhausting reality of walking down an aisle in a few hours knowing a man capable of years of calculated abuse might be watching from somewhere just beyond the tree line, waiting for his own carefully chosen moment.
"I don't want to give him the power to stop this wedding," she said quietly, surprising even herself with the specific resolve in her own voice. "I've spent nine years building a life he doesn't get to touch. I'm not letting him touch today either."
Ryan reached for her hand, pride and fear mixing visibly in his expression.
"Are you certain," he asked gently. "Nobody would think less of you for wanting to postpone, given everything."
"I'm certain," Emma said. "I want to marry you today, in that garden, surrounded by people who actually love me. If he's out there somewhere, watching, I want him to see exactly that. A life he never managed to destroy, happening anyway, without his permission."
Castillo nodded, something like genuine respect crossing her professional composure. "Then we proceed exactly as planned, with considerably more security than either of you probably wanted for your wedding day. I'll have my team fully briefed within the hour."
May you like
Walter stood, already reaching for his phone to coordinate additional details with Desmond's team. "I want a perimeter established the moment guests start arriving. Nobody gets near that garden without being properly identified first."
Emma watched the room move into careful, protective motion around her, and felt, underneath the fear still sitting heavy in her chest, something else entirely, a specific, hard-won gratitude for a family willing to fight this fiercely for her safety, on a day that should have belonged entirely to joy.
