Chapter 8 - A Clean Account
Pike’s office smelled of dust, coffee, and the industrial soap used by the evening crews. Mara stood across from his desk while he read the documents Celia had sent through Devon.
“You should not have brought teenagers here,” he said.
“They came to me.”
“That distinction will not matter to the authority.”
“Neither will the truth if you keep burying it.”
Pike looked up. “You’ve been talking to Elias.”
“Yes.”
“He is not a reliable witness.”
“Because he has a prosthetic?”
“Because he has spent fifteen years building a story in which his guilt is useful to other people.”
The sentence sounded rehearsed. Mara placed the maintenance report on his desk.
“Calvin Sloane disabled my camera.”
“He had a work order.”
“For an exterior light.”
“The camera shares the same circuit.”
“And you knew that?”
Pike leaned back. “I know how buses work.”
“You also knew Elias would be at Hawthorn and Bell.”
His eyes shifted toward the window.
“Who told you that?”
“You did. In the photograph.”
For the first time, Pike looked directly at the old picture she had placed beside the report. June stood at the edge of a construction site, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun. Pike, younger and thinner, wore a Calder Meridian jacket.
“Where did you get that?”
“Elias.”
“He should not have it.”
“Why?”
Pike picked up the photograph and turned it over. “Because it belonged to June.”
“You were involved at Northline.”
“Everyone in that picture was involved.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only honest one.”
Mara felt anger rising, but beneath it was something less stable. Pike had spent six years approving her route changes, signing her leave requests, and remembering that Nia disliked tomatoes. It was easier when he was simply corrupt.
“Did you know about the attack?” she asked.
“I knew someone intended to approach Elias.”
“That is a careful way to say yes.”
“I did not know Jace Mercer would bring the others.”
“You know their names.”
Pike closed his eyes briefly. “I know who they are.”
“Who sent them?”
“Nolan.”
“Who sent Nolan?”
He did not answer.
Mara turned toward the door.
“The camera was disabled because someone wanted the stop to be invisible,” Pike said.
She stopped.
“Sloane was supposed to take the archive key quietly. The teenagers were meant to create a distraction. I thought if the cameras were down, the incident would not become public.”
“You thought?”
“I thought I was limiting harm.”
“You used three children as cover.”
“They were already being used.”
“By you.”
Pike’s hands lay flat on the desk. “By Calder.”
“You still work for them.”
“I work for transit.”
“And you take instructions from a construction company.”
“Calder owns the redevelopment contract, not the authority.”
“That is not the difference you think it is.”
Pike looked older than he had that morning. “Sloane failed.”
“He took the archive key.”
“He took something else.”
Mara waited.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“You arranged the operation and don’t know what was taken?”
“I arranged a recovery. Not an operation.”
“From Elias?”
“From someone who should never have been carrying evidence through a public transit stop.”
“He was meeting a reporter.”
“Keisha Bell was supposed to meet him. She never arrived.”
“Why?”
“Because her editor received a warning.”
“From whom?”
Pike’s face closed again.
Mara stepped closer. “You are going to tell me.”
“You are not a police officer.”
“No. I’m the person who has to drive through Hawthorn and Bell tomorrow and pretend none of this happened.”
The office phone rang. Pike let it ring until the answering system caught it.
“The authority will suspend you,” he said.
“Do it.”
“You could lose your route.”
“You could lose more than that.”
He stared at her, and she understood the warning was not entirely his own.
When Mara reached the lobby, Nia was waiting beside the vending machines with a backpack over one shoulder.
“What are you doing here?”
“You left your phone at home.”
“You could have called.”
“You weren’t answering.”
She handed over the phone. “I found something else in the video.”
“Not here.”
“I know.”
Nia glanced at the security camera above the entrance. “Mom, the file has a second device signature. The original was recorded on a phone registered to Talia Voss. But the missing section was replaced from a transit tablet.”
Mara looked back toward Pike’s office.
“Can you prove that?”
“Not yet.”
“Then don’t tell anyone.”
Nia frowned. “You tell me to tell the truth.”
“I tell you to stay safe.”
“Those aren’t always the same.”
May you like
Mara had no answer.
Outside, the afternoon buses groaned through the rain. Somewhere in the building, Pike’s phone began ringing again.
