Chapter 8 - The Investigator
Her name was Lena Ortiz.
She showed me identification from a private investigations agency and a photograph of herself standing beside Marcus.
The police officer objected when I attempted to leave with her.
I told him Lena had information about the suspect vehicle.
That was true.
It was simply not all the truth.
Daniel insisted on coming.
Lena looked at him with undisguised disgust.
“He cannot be trusted,” she said.
“I know,” I replied.
“I can help find Noah,” Daniel said.
“You helped them take him.”
“I didn’t know they would use him.”
“That does not make you innocent.”
We drove in Lena’s SUV.
She had installed secure communication equipment, a police scanner, and a tracking console in the dashboard.
“Marcus found the van,” she said. “It passed a private toll sensor forty minutes ago.”
“Toward Blackwood Lake?” I asked.
“No. East.”
Daniel leaned forward from the back seat.
“Rebecca is avoiding the lake house.”
“Or someone else is driving,” Lena said.
“She has Noah.”
“The school footage shows her taking him. It does not prove she still has him.”
“Where is the van now?” I asked.
“An industrial area near the river.”
Lena took an exit.
During the drive, she explained what Marcus had discovered.
The forged school authorization originated from a server Daniel’s firm used for client documents.
The life insurance change had been processed by a broker connected to Northstar.
The medical records describing my supposed psychiatric history had been uploaded into two hospital systems.
“You can remove them?” I asked.
“Eventually. Right now, anyone checking your name may believe they are genuine.”
Daniel stared out the window.
“You knew about the records,” Lena said.
“I knew Rebecca was preparing a capacity challenge.”
“You knew someone was manufacturing a mental illness for your wife.”
“I never approved false hospital files.”
“You approved enough.”
Daniel said nothing.
The industrial district consisted of abandoned warehouses, repair garages, and fenced storage yards.
Lena parked behind a closed furniture factory.
“The van stopped inside a warehouse two blocks away,” she said.
“Police?” I asked.
“Marcus is routing the location through an anonymous tip.”
“Why anonymously?”
“Because one of the officers assigned to the kidnapping alert searched your name before the alert was issued.”
I remembered the message that would later warn me not to trust the officer in the hallway.
“How could an officer search me before Noah was taken?”
“Because someone expected police involvement.”
The warehouse door stood partially open.
Lena removed a compact handgun from a locked box beneath her seat.
Daniel stared at it.
“You’re armed?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going inside,” I said.
“No,” Lena replied.
“My son is in there.”
“And if this is a trap, he needs you alive.”
Daniel opened his door.
“I’ll go.”
“You’re the last person I would send,” Lena said.
“He trusts me.”
“Noah is frightened of you.”
The words struck him.
For the first time, shame appeared on Daniel’s face.
It did not absolve him, but I saw that he felt it.
We approached the warehouse from the rear.
Lena moved first.
I followed despite her instruction to remain outside.
Daniel came behind me.
Inside, the air smelled of oil and wet concrete.
The gray minivan stood near the center.
Its driver’s door was open.
“Noah?” I called.
Lena raised one hand.
We listened.
A faint sound came from inside the van.
I ran toward it.
“Noah!”
The rear seats were empty.
A phone lay on the floor.
Its screen played an audio recording.
My son’s voice.
“Mom, if you hear this, don’t go to the lake. The blond lady said the house has cameras. She said she’s trying to help me.”
The recording ended.
I replayed it.
Daniel stood behind me.
“Rebecca is helping him?”
“Or forcing him to say it,” Lena replied.
The phone displayed one outgoing call made ten minutes earlier.
The number belonged to Daniel.
His phone had never rung.
Lena examined the device.
“The call was intercepted before reaching him.”
“By whom?” I asked.
“Someone controlling his carrier account.”
Daniel swore softly.
A metal sound came from the far side of the warehouse.
We turned.
Rebecca emerged from behind a stack of shipping pallets.
Her coat was torn.
Blood streaked one side of her face.
She held both hands where Lena could see them.
“Where is my son?” I asked.
“Safe for the moment.”
“Where?”
“I moved him.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because Calder ordered me to kill him.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“What?”
Rebecca looked at him with contempt.
“You still don’t understand what you joined.”
“You took Noah.”
“To keep Calder’s men from taking him first.”
“You forged the pickup authorization.”
“I had six minutes.”
“You could have called me,” I said.
“Your phone was compromised.”
“You sent the envelope?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
Lena kept the gun trained on her.
“Where is the child?”
Rebecca glanced toward the warehouse windows.
“Not here.”
“Then start explaining.”
Rebecca wiped blood from her cheek.
“Calder never intended to let Daniel control Northstar. He used Daniel to obtain access to your finances, your schedule, your family records, and your signatures.”
“Why me?”
“Because the Mercer Trust contains an encrypted archive.”
“What archive?”
“I don’t know exactly. Financial ledgers. Names. Transaction histories. Evidence collected by your mother.”
“My mother?”
“She discovered Adrian’s network before he disappeared.”
“Adrian is Calder.”
Rebecca’s expression changed.
“Who told you that?”
“My brother.”
“Then your brother has put you in greater danger than Daniel ever did.”
Daniel flinched.
Rebecca continued.
“Adrian Mercer did not survive the car accident.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Calder showed me Adrian’s body.”
The warehouse fell silent.
“When?” Lena asked.
“Two years ago.”
“That is impossible,” I said.
“He preserved evidence from the crash. Bone fragments. Dental records. Photographs.”
“Then who is Calder?”
Rebecca looked directly at me.
“That is the question people die for asking.”
A loudspeaker hidden somewhere in the warehouse crackled.
A man’s voice filled the building.
“You always did speak too much, Rebecca.”
Her face turned white.
Lena spun toward the upper windows.
The warehouse doors began closing automatically.
Rebecca ran toward us.
May you like
“Get down!”
Gunfire erupted from the catwalk.
