Chapter 7 - The Witness Who Changed Sides
Lewis Grant had been dead for four days when the police found him. He had been beaten, placed in the driver’s seat of his own truck, and left beside the quarry road with a bottle of whiskey between his knees.
“They wanted it to look like an accident,” Reed said.
We sat in a conference room at the precinct because the rehabilitation apartment had no space for interviews. Tessa waited outside with a paper cup of coffee, although she had already warned me not to drink it because it was terrible.
“Did he have the ledger?” I asked.
“Not on him.”
“Then why kill him?”
Reed looked at the photographs spread across the table.
“Because he could identify who gave him the instructions.”
Simon sat at the far end of the room under guard. Since the chapel fire, he had become cooperative in the careful, limited way of a man who knew cooperation might still get him killed.
“Grant was paid by North Vale Holdings,” Simon said.
“But the orders came through Julian’s private phone.”
“Can you prove it?”
“I can show you the payment trail.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No,” he said.
“It’s what people say when they want a confession.”
The flash drive from Celia Park filled in some of the gaps. Briar Ledger had paid for the brake inspection, the forged deed, and the emergency petition. It had also paid a private investigator to follow me for nearly a year. The investigator’s name was Martin Sloane.
Reed recognized it.
“Sloane worked for the Vale Foundation during the river project.”
“Where is he?” Priya asked.
“Missing.”
Before Reed could say more, his phone rang. He listened, then passed it to me.
“It’s Celia,” he said.
Her voice trembled.
“I need to meet you alone.”
“Where?”
“The parking garage beneath the municipal building. Level three. Come in ten minutes.”
Priya shook her head before I could answer. I said yes anyway. We took two unmarked cars. Tessa insisted on coming in the second one, sitting beside me with a folded umbrella across her lap as if she had finally accepted that her role had expanded beyond nursing.
Celia stood beside a concrete pillar, clutching her messenger bag.
“They took Sophie,” she said.
“Who?”
“Julian’s people. Her father picked her up from school, but he never brought her home. The police say he left the state.”
She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes.
“Julian told me I had one chance to get her back.”
“What does he want?”
“The flash drive.”
Priya stepped forward.
“You knew this would happen.”
“I knew he would retaliate. I didn’t know he would take my daughter.”
“Where is she?”
“At a house in Briar Glen. I have the address.”
Reed moved to call the kidnapping unit. Celia grabbed his sleeve.
“No police. He said they would hurt her.”
“If you withhold information from law enforcement, you may make things worse,” he said.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand exactly what he’s doing.”
The garage lights flickered. An engine roared on the level above us. A dark SUV descended the ramp too quickly, tires squealing as it turned toward our group. Reed shouted for us to move.
The SUV struck the concrete pillar beside Celia. She fell, and the messenger bag flew open. Papers scattered across the wet floor. The vehicle reversed before Reed could reach it.
As it climbed the ramp, a rear window lowered. Julian looked out. He did not appear frightened. He appeared disappointed.
“Mara,” he called.
“You should have stayed quiet.”
Reed fired at the tires, but the SUV disappeared into traffic. Celia had been cut by flying glass. She kept repeating Sophie’s name until the paramedics arrived. The flash drive was still in Priya’s possession.
The papers were not. They had been taken from Celia’s bag by someone who had entered the garage through a side door. Among them was a list of properties and the name of a judge who had approved several emergency guardianship orders connected to Vale Renewal.
“The judge is compromised,” Priya said.
Reed stared at the list.
“We need to assume the case has been penetrated.”
That evening, an officer delivered news that made the courthouse victory feel temporary. The protective order against Julian had been challenged by an emergency filing claiming I had violated its terms by communicating with company employees. The filing included photographs of me speaking to Celia in the garage. The images had been taken from above.
“Someone inside the department gave them the photographs,” Reed said.
“Or someone inside the court,” Priya replied.
May you like
The next morning, Celia vanished from the hospital where she was being treated. Her bed was empty. Her IV line had been removed cleanly. On the pillow lay a note written in black ink.
THE WOMAN YOU ARE PROTECTING WORKS FOR ME.
