Father Leaves Son in Car at Car Wash, Boy Vanishes without a Trace – Story of the Day

Peter leaves his son in the car at the automatic car wash and steps away for coffee. When he returns ten minutes later, he finds his son missing. Peter then spots a note in the car's backseat with a chilling message that sends his heart racing.

"Wait up, champ!" Peter waved at his son Luke just before the car washing began. Little Luke pressed his nose against the window and watched his Dad step away to meet the service manager, his old pal, Dave, for a cup of coffee and a friendly chat.

Peter knew well that it was against the rules to let a kid be in the car unaccompanied during car washing. But despite being an ex-cop, he was ready to bend a few rules to see that smile on his little boy's face...

Ten minutes later, when Peter casually returned to the car and got in, he realized Luke wasn't in the backseat. Instead, there was a strange piece of paper on it.

"Luke? Honey...Luke?" Peter called out, but Luke was nowhere in sight. Peter then picked up the paper on the backseat and unfolded it. His heart raced, and shivers ran down his spine.

"I have your son. If you want him back alive, pay your price and get him back—a million dollars. If I don't have it by the end of the day, I'll make sure everybody knows about the tax fraud you committed five years ago. Wait for my instructions. Don't act smart, or your boy dies."

Peter's heart started pounding in horror. After he quit the police force, he started a security company and co-owned it. Five years ago, when Luke was diagnosed with a rare heart condition that needed urgent surgery, Peter fabricated the records to have the cost reflect as a business expense, and committed a tax fraud to afford the post-op care. Nobody, not even his business partner, knew this.

So, who was this that was threatening him after five years of keeping the chilling secret? How did they know about the tax fraud?

Several haunting thoughts plagued Peter's mind. But it was nothing compared to the fear he felt for his little son's life that was now in the hands of a menacing kidnapper who seemed to know more about Peter than anybody else.

Peter's mind went blank. He couldn't seek the help of cops. It would put Luke's life at risk. But there was one way.

Peter knew that if someone could help him, it was his old friend and former partner in the police force, Mike. So Peter anxiously called him.

"Whoa! Look who's calling! After a long, long time!" Mike answered cheerfully.

"Man, I need your help," Peter replied. "Can you meet me at the car wash near my house? Hello? Mike? Hello? Can you hear me?"

The line went blank, and just as Peter was about to call Mike again, a string of messages popped on his phone screen.

"We're watching you. And we can hear you. Call that dude again and tell him not to come. If he shows up or if you tell him anything about the kidnapping, your son's dead body will be delivered to you in a trash bag."

A cold sweat broke onto Peter's forehead. He looked around but couldn't pinpoint who was watching him among the crowd. It felt as if all eyes were on him. What a horrifying feeling it was!

With trembling hands, Peter called Mike again.

"Hey, the call got disconnected, man. I was just leaving..."

"No...you don't have to come. I...I just had a flat tire. It's fixed. Let's catch up sometime later, alright?" Peter rushed before hanging up.

He drove home and pulled into the driveway, unsure how to tell his wife, Amelia, about Luke's kidnapping.

"Hey, you guys are home at last!" Amelia approached as Peter walked in.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked, noticing the horrified look on Peter's face. "Where's Luke?"

"Luke...he...he's taken. Somebody kidnapped our son," Peter murmured.

"What?? Kidnapped? What do you mean? Oh my God...." Amelia was overwhelmed with shock.

"I was gone for ten minutes...and when I returned to the car, Luke was missing."

"Did you call the cops? Peter, answer me. We need to find our son."

"No...we can't get the cops involved. Look, Amelia, I'll find our son, okay? I promise."

"Are you crazy, Peter? Somebody took our son...and you don't want to report it to the cops? Are you out of your mind?"

"Amelia, you have to trust me. I'll not let anything happen to our son."

Peter stormed to the basement and grabbed his gun.

When he returned to the living room, he noticed Amelia was on the landline.

"What are you doing?" he yelled as she snatched the receiver from her hand. "I told you not to call anyone, Amelia."

"Peter, it's our son. I want Luke back. I'm so scared. He's just ten...he's a child. It's killing me to think how frightened he must be..."

Peter sighed and hugged Amelia. "I promise you I'll find our son. Nothing's gonna happen to him. I promise."

When Amelia calmed down a bit, Peter helped her onto the couch. "I'll get you some water," he said.

Back in the kitchen, he crushed a sleeping pill and mixed it in a glass of water before offering it to Amelia. She gulped it down and, moments later, fell into a deep sleep on the couch.

"I'm sorry, honey. I promise I'll be home with Luke," Peter whispered when the same private number he received those threatening texts from earlier flashed across his phone screen. Peter nervously answered the call.

"Who are you? Why the hell are you doing this to my son?" Peter hissed.

"Bring the money to 48th Avenue in two hours," the kidnapper replied. "Put it in a blue garbage can there. Within an hour, your son will return home...

...Dead or alive, that depends on you, got it?"

Before Peter could say anything else, the line went blank. The kidnapper used a voice modulation app to make that call, and Peter couldn't determine who it was.

He hurried to his home office and emptied his safe, stuffing the one million dollars in a duffel bag. He tucked a revolver in the back of his trousers and drove to the spot the kidnapper had mentioned.

Peter found a blue garbage can in the middle of the pavement. He tossed the money bag inside and headed to a café across the street. The can was clearly visible through the cafe's glass window.

Ten minutes passed, but Peter didn't see anyone approaching the can to take the money.

He checked his phone, but there were no calls or messages from the kidnapper. It was strange. The kidnapper claimed he was watching Peter's every move. But there was no notification or confirmation he had received the money.

Something had to be wrong, so Peter approached a waiter. "Hey, excuse me! Did you notice anything strange going on over there?" he asked, pointing to the blue garbage can outside.

"It's almost in the middle of the pavement...and no one bothered to move it?" Peter continued.

"Well, you're right, sir. It's so strange somebody would install it in the middle of the pavement like that. A van stopped over, and a guy in casuals left the can there...about an hour ago," the waiter said. "I thought he was a sanitation worker. But they normally arrive in a truck. But this was a gray van."

Peter sensed something was amiss and dashed out of the café, approaching the can. He gasped in shock when he removed the bin's lid and peered inside.

"Holy Jesus!"

The bag of cash was missing, and a big hollow at the bottom of the container led into an underground sewage opening. Peter realized he had been tricked.

He kicked the can away and climbed down the rusty ladder. It was dark and damp, and the odor was overwhelming.

Then, Peter heard loud footsteps in the distance. A silhouette appeared to run as Peter screamed, "Hey! Stop!"

Peter fired the gun, and the figure landed in the muddy water with a heavy splash. Peter bolted to the figure and pulled off his hoodie, only to realize it was a teenage boy.

"Where's my son? Who are you?" he asked.

"I don't know...I...I'm just a courier guy."

"Are you going to tell me everything, or...." Peter twisted the boy's arm.

"Okay...Okay! I'll tell you. Please leave me," the boy winced in pain. "They told me to leave the money in a car. I got orders via messages. I don't know who is ordering me around."

"Get up...where did I hurt you?" Peter hauled the boy to his feet.

"Nowhere...I just fell in the water because the gunshot scared me."

"Okay...listen. I'm an ex-cop. I can report you to my buddies back in the department...But I'll let you go if you do as I say," Peter told him. "Where were you supposed to drop this bag?"

"In a gray SUV at that old restaurant on 48th Avenue."

"Alright...Now listen to what you're gonna do..." Peter instructed the boy about the next move.

Ten minutes later, Peter climbed out of the sewer and headed to 48th Avenue. From afar, he watched the boy put the money in the gray SUV and waited for someone to approach the car.

A couple of minutes later, a man stopped right outside the SUV.

Peter's eyes widened in horror. "Jesus! Mike?!" he gasped, realizing his friend and ex-partner was behind all the blackmailing.

Mike got into the car and sped down the street. Peter quickly hailed a taxi and followed Mike's SUV.

Twenty minutes later, Mike's car headed into the forest road just before the freeway's end. Peter knew that Mike's late grandmother had an old cottage there.

He stopped the taxi a few miles before the cottage and followed Mike on foot. He crept into the backyard of the cabin and sneaked inside. He hoped to find his son Luke in there...safe.

Peter pushed the back door, and just as he was about to tiptoe inside, a cold metal brushed against his temple.

"Ever heard of a tracker on a phone?" Mike hissed.

Peter turned around, his hands in the air.

"And I thought you were my friend," Peter frowned. "How could you do this to me, Mike?"

"Well, I had the same question when you quit the department and started your own business. You know the business was my idea, too. I was going through hell back then. I just needed some time to gather the funds...and we could've co-owned the company."

"But you did it without me, Peter. And you didn't even offer me a job in your goddamn company. My life was in pieces...but you never helped me. I stalked you...found out about your little scam...and waited for my time to take revenge. YOU OWE ME!" Mike lifted the duffel bag from the SUV and aimed his gun at Peter.

"Wait...the money in the bag is fake!" Peter declared.

Mike checked the bag, and a wave of fury gripped him. "Where's the freakin' money? You tricked me??"

"It...it's in my car."

Mike lost his cool and whacked Peter's head hard, causing him to black out.

When Peter opened his eyes an hour later, he heard a muffled voice calling out to him.

"Daddy! Daddy...wake up!" Peter heard Luke's voice as he turned around with a start. Luke was right there, beside him, tied to a chair.

"Luke! Are...are you alright, buddy?" Peter cried.

"I'm fine, Daddy. We need to get out of here."

"I'll figure something out," Luke groaned. His hands and feet were tied, and he couldn't move. So he asked Luke to drag the chair towards him. "...face the other side. Quick, Luke."

A terrified Luke did as Peter told him.

"Let me try untying your hands first," Peter said as he tried to free his son. Suddenly, the basement door flung open, and Mike appeared in the doorway.

"Finally...Daddy's reunited with his little son!" Mike smirked, lifting the bag of money. "I got all the real cash!"

"Don't hurt him, Mike," Peter pleaded with him. "You got the money...let my son go!"

"Killing him or you wasn't my intention!" Mike grinned. "I have the money. Now I need a guarantee. You saw nothing. You dropped the ransom, and you got your son back. If you go to the cops, you'll open a whole can of worms...and end up in jail. I hope you wouldn't want me to do that...and send you behind bars!"

Peter hung his head disappointedly and nodded.

"Good. Bring me another $2 million in a week...and no one will ever hear anything from me ever again," Mike threatened.

Peter agreed as Mike grinned and left the cabin.

"Daddy...didn't you say bad guys go to jail?" Luke innocently looked up as Peter untied the ropes.

"You're right, champ...bad boys should end up in prison...even if that bad guy is your father!"

As soon as Peter's hands were freed, he called the cops.

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