Chapter 15 - The Call That Wasn’t
The basement door slammed behind them.
Cole shoved a cabinet against it while Mara and June moved through the storage room. Above them, voices shouted. A police officer called for everyone inside to show their hands.
“They’re here,” June said.
“Not close enough,” Cole answered.
He pointed to a narrow passage behind the boxes. “The tunnel entrance is there.”
Mara found a rusted metal door covered by a hanging tarp. The lock had already been cut, but the door would not open more than a few inches.
“It’s jammed,” June said.
“Together,” Mara answered.
They pushed. The door groaned and released a burst of cold, earthy air.
The tunnel beyond was barely wide enough for one person. Water dripped from the ceiling. Old pipes ran along one wall, and faded blue paint marked the other.
Mara went first, carrying the emergency radio. June followed. Cole came last, listening to the struggle above.
After twenty yards, the tunnel opened into a concrete room beneath the red farmhouse. A broken desk sat beside an old landline telephone.
Mara lifted the receiver.
There was a dial tone.
“Call emergency services,” June said.
Mara dialed, but the line clicked before anyone answered.
Silas’s voice came through the receiver.
“I wondered when you would find that.”
Mara froze.
“You tapped the line?”
“The old property lines are connected. I can hear everything.”
“Then hear this,” Mara said. “The police are in the house.”
“They are searching an empty building.”
“Dana is there. Cole is here. June is alive.”
Silas laughed quietly. “You still believe witnesses matter.”
“They matter when they survive.”
“You have no idea where you are.”
“Under the red farmhouse behind the blue house, near the grain elevator.”
Silas stopped laughing.
Mara kept the receiver near her mouth. “You built a tunnel to move people and records without inspection. You hid payments in an archive room. You planned the Briar Court relocation before the fire.”
“You have a paper envelope.”
“And a recording.”
“Edited recordings are meaningless.”
“The raw file is already with investigators.”
“Investigators can be persuaded.”
“Not all of them.”
Silas’s voice hardened. “Give me the envelope.”
“Come get it.”
Cole looked at her in alarm.
Mara pressed one finger to her lips. The emergency radio lay on the desk, its red button still blinking. She had set it to transmit when they entered the tunnel, though she did not know whether the signal could reach the outside.
“Where are you?” Silas asked.
“You know.”
“Mara, you are carrying a child. You need a hospital.”
“Yes.”
“I can take you.”
“You already took me somewhere.”
“I can make this disappear.”
“That is the problem. You have spent years making people disappear from records, from homes, and from their own lives.”
June moved to the corner and found a metal pipe hanging from the wall. She tapped it three times.
From above came a faint answering knock.
The police had reached the farmhouse.
Silas must have heard it too.
“You should have stayed in the tunnel,” he said.
“You should have left the records alone.”
The line went dead.
Cole looked toward the passage. “He’s coming.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
Mara placed the blue envelope on the desk beside the radio. “He needs to believe he can still control what happens next.”
June understood first. “The phone line.”
“And the radio.”
“You want him to say it.”
“I want him to say enough.”
Cole shook his head. “He won’t confess.”
“People rarely confess. They correct.”
Footsteps sounded in the tunnel.
Silas appeared at the entrance, alone, his coat dusted with snow.
He held no weapon. That made him more dangerous.
“This has gone too far,” he said.
May you like
Mara looked at the receiver.
“Then tell us how far you planned to take it.”
