Chapter 6 - Locker 314.
Marcus noticed the SUV before Commissioner Hale did.
Years of military training made certain instincts impossible to lose.
“Everybody inside.”
Maya turned toward the window.
“What?”
“Now.”
Hale immediately reached beneath his jacket.
The black SUV remained motionless.
No license plate was visible from the shop.
Marcus moved Grace’s car seat behind an engine block.
Maya crouched beside it.
Raymond shut off the fluorescent lights.
Darkness swallowed the garage.
For ten seconds nobody moved.
Then the SUV’s engine started.
It drove away.
Hale called the plate description to dispatch.
Marcus looked at Raymond.
“Who knew we were coming here?”
“Nobody.”
“Somebody knew.”
Maya thought of the ballroom.
Hundreds of people.
Employees.
Security.
Family members.
Ethan.
Her stomach twisted.
Marcus saw the thought on her face.
“Do not decide guilt before evidence.”
Maya nodded.
But trust had become difficult.
They left the repair shop with police escort.
The old Briar County terminal stood behind a chain-link fence scheduled for demolition.
Hale obtained emergency access through the property manager.
Rows of rusted lockers lined the basement.
Most had been forced open years earlier.
Locker 314 remained sealed.
Maya inserted the brass key.
It turned.
Marcus exhaled.
The metal door creaked open.
Inside sat a weatherproof military case.
Nothing else.
Maya stared at it.
“Twenty-seven years.”
Marcus nodded.
“Your mother knew how to preserve evidence.”
The case had two locks.
One accepted the key.
The other required a combination.
Taped beneath the lid was a faded sticker.
CARROTS ARE PUNISHMENT.
Maya stared.
Then laughed through tears.
Marcus smiled faintly.
“She used something only you might understand.”
Maya thought.
“I was three.”
“What numbers mattered to you?”
“My birthday?”
Marcus nodded.
“April sixth.”
Maya entered 0406.
The lock clicked.
Inside were three cassette tapes.
A stack of financial documents.
Photographs.
A red notebook.
And one sealed envelope addressed to MARCUS VANCE.
Marcus’s hands shook.
Maya handed it to him.
He opened it slowly.
His daughter’s handwriting filled the page.
“Dad.”
“If you are reading this, I failed to get Amelia home.”
Marcus stopped.
He turned away.
Maya touched his arm.
He continued silently for several moments.
Then he handed Maya the letter.
Eleanor had discovered that Sterling Defense and Vaughn Logistics were inflating military medical contracts.
Millions were being diverted into shell companies.
Defective equipment was substituted.
When soldiers were injured, internal reports were altered.
But there was something worse.
Eleanor had identified government officials who accepted payments to bury investigations.
Marcus looked at the names.
Three were dead.
Two were retired.
One currently sat in the United States Senate.
Maya felt cold.
“This is why she was killed.”
Marcus nodded.
“Most likely.”
Hale examined a photograph.
It showed Charles Sterling.
Victoria Sterling.
Senator Raymond Holloway.
And David Rowan.
All standing outside the lake house.
The date was October 17, 1999.
Maya stared.
“Rowan was there.”
Marcus inserted one cassette into an old recorder found in the evidence kit Hale’s officers brought.
Static filled the basement.
Then Eleanor’s voice appeared.
Marcus froze.
Maya covered her mouth.
Her mother sounded young.
Calm.
Alive.
“This is Major Eleanor Vance.”
“October seventeenth, nineteen ninety-nine.”
“If this recording is recovered, Project Harbor has been compromised.”
She listed account numbers.
Contract identifiers.
Dates.
Then her tone changed.
“Charles Sterling knows I have evidence.”
“Victoria Sterling knows as well.”
“David Rowan has agreed to meet me at the lake house.”
Marcus frowned.
“Agreed?”
The tape continued.
“I no longer know whether Rowan can be trusted.”
Maya looked at Marcus.
Her mother’s voice became quieter.
“I brought Amelia because my babysitter received a threatening call.”
“I believed keeping her with me was safer.”
Maya closed her eyes.
Eleanor continued.
“If anything happens, Charles Sterling is not the only person investigators should examine.”
The tape clicked.
Static.
Then one final sentence.
“Someone inside my own investigation has been feeding Sterling information.”
The recording ended.
Marcus looked toward the photograph of David Rowan.
“Her partner.”
Hale nodded.
“Maybe.”
Maya picked up the second cassette.
Its label read LAKE HOUSE.
Marcus inserted it.
For several seconds there was only muffled noise.
Then voices.
Charles Sterling.
Eleanor.
A man who was probably Rowan.
And a woman.
Victoria.
Charles shouted.
“You have no idea what you are threatening.”
Eleanor answered.
“I know exactly what I’m threatening.”
“Theft.”
“Fraud.”
“Dead soldiers.”
Victoria’s voice followed.
“Think about your daughter.”
Maya’s entire body stiffened.
Eleanor replied.
“That is exactly what I’m doing.”
Then Rowan spoke.
“Eleanor, give me the documents.”
Marcus leaned toward the recorder.
Eleanor answered.
“You were supposed to protect the investigation.”
Rowan said nothing.
Then Charles spoke.
“You should have taken the money.”
A chair scraped.
Someone shouted.
The sound of a struggle filled the tape.
Then a child began crying.
Maya covered her mouth.
Her own voice.
Twenty-seven years younger.
“Mommy!”
Eleanor screamed.
“Amelia, run!”
A gunshot exploded through the recording.
Maya recoiled.
Marcus shut his eyes.
Then came another sound.
A man shouting.
“You shot her!”
Maya looked toward Marcus.
The voice belonged to David Rowan.
Victoria screamed something unintelligible.
Then Charles said three words.
Words that changed the entire investigation.
“Victoria, give me the gun.”
Nobody in the basement moved.
Maya stared at the recorder.
Marcus slowly turned toward Hale.
“Victoria fired the shot.”
Before Hale could answer, his phone rang.
He listened.
His expression darkened.
“What happened?”
May you like
Hale looked at Maya.
“The officers watching the Sterling estate just reported Victoria is gone.”
