Chapter 4 - MY FATHER CAME BACK FROM THE DEADI screamed his name.
“Dad!”
The warehouse went dark so completely I couldn’t see my own hands.
Grant grabbed my arm before I could run forward.
“Don’t move.”
“That was him!”
“I know.”
“Let go!”
“Grace—”
“That was my father!”
Gunfire erupted somewhere above us.
Mara dragged me behind the SUV as bullets struck metal.
Grant fired toward the upper walkway.
“Shooter on the west rail!”
My mind could not process any of it.
My father had been standing twenty yards away.
Alive.
Old.
Thin.
But alive.
I tried to crawl around the SUV.
Mara blocked me.
“If you run out there, Raymond wins.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will when Thomas dies because you gave Raymond leverage.”
I stared at her.
“You knew he would be here.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I swear.”
Another shot hit the concrete.
Grant shouted.
“Loading dock! Move!”
We ran.
Somebody activated emergency lights.
Red bulbs flashed overhead.
I saw a figure disappear behind stacked pallets.
“Dad!”
No answer.
Grant kicked open a side office.
We rushed inside.
He locked the door.
“What the hell happened?”
Mara checked the hallway through a cracked window.
“Ambush.”
“Whose?”
“Raymond’s.”
“That man was Thomas.”
“Yes.”
“Did Raymond bring him?”
“I don’t know.”
I grabbed her coat.
“You told me my father contacted you eighteen months ago.”
“He did.”
“Where was he?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“How can you not know?”
“Because Thomas didn’t trust electronic communication.”
“Then how did you communicate?”
“Drops.”
“Physical drops?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Different cities.”
I stared at her.
“You’ve been helping my father for eighteen months?”
“Trying to.”
“And never told me?”
“Because he explicitly told me not to.”
My anger exploded.
“He abandoned me for eleven years and then told you I wasn’t allowed to know he was alive?”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then tell me what happened!”
A voice came from behind us.
“She can’t.”
I turned.
The office had another door.
My father stood inside it.
For one second, I forgot how to breathe.
He looked worse up close.
Scar across his temple.
Hollow cheeks.
Old burn marks on his hands.
But his eyes were the same.
Brown.
Warm.
Terrified.
“Grace.”
I crossed the room and slapped him.
The sound echoed.
Nobody moved.
My father closed his eyes.
I slapped him again.
Then I hit his chest with both fists.
“You were alive.”
He didn’t stop me.
“You were alive!”
“I know.”
“I buried you!”
His face broke.
“I know.”
“I spent eleven years thinking you were dead.”
“I know.”
“You let Mom die thinking—”
“No.”
That stopped me.
He opened his eyes.
“Your mother knew.”
My hands fell.
“What?”
“She knew I was alive.”
“No.”
“She helped hide me.”
I backed away.
“Don’t lie about her.”
“I’m not.”
“She cried every night.”
“Because she couldn’t tell you.”
“She begged me to stop searching.”
“To keep you alive.”
My knees weakened.
Grant pulled a chair toward me.
I refused to sit.
My father looked toward the office door.
“We have maybe five minutes.”
“Then use them.”
He swallowed.
“Raymond didn’t kidnap me.”
I stared.
“What?”
“I disappeared willingly.”
The anger came back hotter.
“You left us?”
“To protect you.”
“Do not say that.”
“It’s true.”
“That is what every coward says after abandoning his family.”
He absorbed the words.
“You’re right.”
I wasn’t expecting that.
“I was a coward in some ways.”
His voice shook.
“But not about leaving.”
He removed a thin chain from beneath his shirt.
A tiny brass key hung from it.
“I found Raymond’s ledger.”
Mara stepped closer.
“The original?”
“No. Better.”
He looked at me.
“Raymond kept evidence of every transaction inside encrypted data drives. Money trails. Names. Dates. Contract numbers. Payment instructions.”
“You stole them.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because one of the shipments contained targeting hardware that had been diverted from a defense contractor.”
Grant’s face tightened.
“NorthPoint Guidance.”
My father nodded.
“You knew?”
“Vincent suspected.”
“Vincent suspected many things and proved none.”
My father turned to me.
“I tried to report what I found.”
“To police?”
“Federal investigators.”
“What happened?”
“The investigator I contacted sold me back to Raymond.”
A cold pressure formed in my chest.
“Who?”
Dad looked at Mara.
She answered.
“Eleanor Voss.”
I stared at her.
“Your mother?”
Mara’s eyes filled with pain.
“She worked for Raymond.”
Everything twisted again.
“But she protected my family.”
“Later.”
Dad nodded.
“Eleanor was Raymond’s legal fixer. She cleaned paper trails. Paid officials. Controlled medical records.”
“Mom’s doctor.”
“Yes.”
“Did she kill my mother?”
“No.”
Dad answered immediately.
I searched his face.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Mom die?”
My father’s expression changed.
“She was poisoned.”
I stopped breathing.
Mara closed her eyes.
Grant whispered a curse.
“By who?”
Dad looked at me.
“That’s what I came back to prove.”
Outside, a vehicle engine roared.
Grant glanced at the window.
“Four minutes.”
I stepped closer to my father.
“Tell me everything.”
He nodded.
“When I discovered the data drives, I went to Eleanor.”
“Because she claimed to be federal?”
“She gave me documentation.”
“Fake.”
“Most of it.”
“What happened?”
“She turned me over to Raymond.”
I felt sick.
“He kept you prisoner?”
“For seven months.”
“Seven months?”
“I escaped during a transport.”
“Why didn’t you come home?”
“Because Raymond’s people were watching your house.”
“You could have called.”
“I did.”
I remembered.
The final phone call to my mother.
Terrified.
Broken.
Dad looked at me.
“I told Ellen I was alive. I told her not to trust police. I told her Raymond had people everywhere.”
“What did Mom do?”
“She moved you temporarily.”
I remembered spending three months with my aunt in Oregon.
I had thought it was because Mom needed space.
“She helped me create a new identity.”
“For eleven years?”
“I stayed moving.”
My throat burned.
“You could have sent one message.”
“I sent dozens.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“To your mother.”
“She never told me.”
“Because every time we considered telling you, Raymond got close again.”
Mara spoke quietly.
“My mother eventually changed sides.”
I looked toward her.
“Why?”
“Because she discovered what Raymond was really building.”
“What?”
My father answered.
“A network.”
Grant looked uncomfortable.
“Not freight. Influence.”
Dad nodded.
“Raymond didn’t want to be a mob boss. He wanted legitimate control. Ports. Contracts. judges. sheriffs. elected officials.”
“Vincent?”
“Vincent was one part of the network.”
I froze.
Grant’s expression darkened.
“Careful.”
Dad ignored him.
“Vincent transported cargo without asking enough questions.”
“That makes him guilty.”
“Yes.”
Grant stepped forward.
“Vincent stopped once he knew.”
“After he made millions.”
“You think your hands are clean?”
“No.”
My father’s voice was flat.
“Nobody’s are.”
He looked at me.
“That includes your mother.”
The statement hurt more than anything else he had said.
“What did Mom do?”
Dad hesitated.
“Ellen hid one of the drives.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“How?”
“I gave it to her before I disappeared.”
“And Raymond knew?”
“He suspected.”
“That’s why he watched us.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why she was poisoned.”
Dad’s eyes went wet.
“Yes.”
The room seemed to lose all air.
I leaned against the desk.
My mother had died because of something my father gave her.
He could see the accusation in my face.
“I didn’t know they would target her.”
“But they did.”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed gone.”
“Because I thought Raymond would stop if he believed the drive was lost.”
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
Grant checked his gun.
“We need to move.”
My father reached for me.
I stepped back.
Pain flashed across his face.
I hated that part of me still wanted to hug him.
“What happened to Eleanor?”
Dad answered.
“She learned Raymond ordered Ellen’s death.”
“And switched sides.”
“Yes.”
“She helped you?”
“She created false records. Safe properties. money channels.”
“Then who killed Eleanor?”
“Raymond.”
Mara’s voice cracked.
“We think.”
My father looked at her.
“He did.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me.”
Mara stared.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
Everyone went still.
“You met Raymond?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he has something I need.”
“The drive?”
“No.”
Dad looked at me.
“Your mother’s medical file.”
My stomach twisted.
“Why does that matter?”
“It names the person who administered the poison.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said Eleanor worked medical records.”
“She did. But another person had access.”
“Who?”
Dad took a breath.
“Dana Brooks.”
The detective.
I remembered her hospital questions.
Have you ever heard the name Raymond Blackwell?
Be careful who you decide to trust tonight.
“Dana was involved eleven years ago?”
“She wasn’t a detective then.”
“What was she?”
“Hospital security.”
Mara turned sharply.
“I didn’t know that.”
“She worked the night Ellen was admitted.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Is Dana working for Raymond?”
“I don’t know.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“Wonderful.”
A loudspeaker crackled outside.
Raymond’s voice filled the warehouse.
“Thomas.”
My father went pale.
“Time’s up.”
Raymond continued.
“You’ve spent eleven years pretending this ends with evidence.”
Dad drew a gun from behind his back.
“Stay here.”
I grabbed his arm.
“You disappear again, I swear I will shoot you myself.”
For the first time that night, my father almost smiled.
“That sounds like your mother.”
The loudspeaker continued.
“Bring Grace to the loading floor.”
Grant raised his gun.
“Not happening.”
Raymond laughed.
“Then perhaps she’d like to know why Thomas really came tonight.”
My father’s expression changed.
I noticed.
“What does he mean?”
“Nothing.”
Raymond spoke again.
“Thomas didn’t come to rescue his daughter.”
I looked at Dad.
“Grace,” he said.
Raymond finished:
“He came to trade her.”
Silence.
I stared at my father.
“What?”
Dad shook his head.
“That’s not what happened.”
The warehouse lights suddenly blazed on.
Through the office window, I saw at least ten armed men.
Raymond stepped onto the loading platform.
Older than the photograph.
Silver hair.
Same scar.
He smiled directly at me.
Then he held something up.
A small black data drive.
“Come downstairs, Grace.”
My father raised his weapon.
Raymond’s smile widened.
“Your mother left you a message.”
He pressed a button.
Speakers crackled.
Then my dead mother’s voice filled the warehouse.
“Grace, if you’re hearing this, your father has failed.”
May you like
My father closed his eyes.
And my world shattered again.
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