“He used to visit your father.”
“Did they argue?”
“Sometimes.”
“About what?”
Arthur shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Elena sat down.
“My father told me someone wanted me to sell the company.”
Arthur nodded.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Elena looked at him.
“Why?”
Arthur leaned forward.
“Because your father once told me something.”
“What?”
“He said if anything happened to him, I should tell you not to trust anyone who came asking questions about the old warehouse.”
Elena stared at him.
“What warehouse?”
Arthur sighed.
“Your father owned a property on East River Road.”
“I know.”
“He kept records there.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
“Why didn't you tell me before?”
“Because I thought it was family business.”
Arthur looked at her.
“Now I think it might be something else.”
Elena stood.
“Let's go there.”
Arthur shook his head.
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is watching you…”
He paused.
“…we shouldn't let them know what we're looking for.”
The next morning, Elena went to the county courthouse.
She requested public records concerning the burglary.
The clerk looked uncomfortable.
“You'll need authorization.”
“I'm the person who was detained by the sheriff yesterday.”
The clerk's eyes widened.
“I heard.”
“I want to know what I was supposedly being investigated for.”
The clerk checked the computer.
“There isn't an arrest record.”
“There should be a detention report.”
She waited.
The clerk frowned.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“No report.”
Elena stared at the screen.
“So there is no official record that I was stopped?”
“Apparently not.”
“Who entered the incident?”
The clerk looked at the system.
“Sheriff's office.”
“Which officer?”
“Sheriff Carter.”
Elena nodded slowly.
“Thank you.”
She walked away.
Outside, she called a lawyer.
His name was Daniel Price.
He had represented her father years earlier.
“Daniel?”
“Elena?”
“I need help.”
He listened.
When she finished, he was silent.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then don't go anywhere alone.”
“I've already heard that.”
“I mean it.”
“What do you know?”
“I know your father was involved in a property dispute before he died.”
“With whom?”
“Richard Hale.”
Elena stopped walking.
“What kind of dispute?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“I can't discuss privileged matters without reviewing the files.”
“Then review them.”
“I will.”
She hung up.
Her phone rang immediately.
Unknown number.
Again.
She answered.
“You're making a mistake.”
Elena recognized the voice.
The same man.
“Who are you?”
“You don't need to know.”
“What do you want?”
“The warehouse.”
Elena froze.
“You know about the warehouse.”
Silence.
Then:
“Leave it alone.”
The call ended.
Elena stood on the courthouse steps.
Now she knew for certain.
Someone had been watching.
Someone knew about the warehouse.
And someone was afraid of what she might find there.
That evening, Elena and Arthur drove to East River Road.
They waited until after dark.
The warehouse had been closed since her father's death.
The building stood behind a chain-link fence.
The lock on the main gate was old.
Arthur looked at Elena.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
“At least you're honest.”
They entered through a side door.
Inside, dust covered everything.
Old shelves.
Boxes.
Broken furniture.
Construction equipment.
Elena turned on her flashlight.
“Where would my father keep records?”
Arthur thought.
“Your father liked hiding things in plain sight.”
They searched.
Nothing.
Then Elena noticed a wooden desk.
She opened the drawers.
Empty.
She looked underneath.
Nothing.
Arthur knocked on the wall.
He stopped.
“Listen.”
“What?”
He knocked again.
One section sounded hollow.
They moved a shelf.
Behind it was a narrow door.
Elena stared.
“My father never told me about this.”
Arthur opened it.
Inside was a small room.
There were boxes.
Folders.
Hard drives.
Photographs.
And a locked metal cabinet.
Elena opened the first box.
Documents.
Property transfers.
Bank statements.
Contracts.
Then she found a folder labeled:
RIVER DEVELOPMENT PROJECT
She opened it.
Her father had been investigating a land deal.
Millions of dollars were involved.
Several properties had been purchased through shell companies.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Richard Hale.
Another name appeared on the final page.
Sheriff William Carter.
Elena's heart stopped.
Arthur read over her shoulder.
“He was involved?”
“Apparently.”
She turned another page.
There were payment records.
Private security contracts.
Consulting fees.
Transfers from companies connected to Hale.
Some payments had gone to an account linked to the sheriff's office.
Arthur whispered:
“This is corruption.”
Elena shook her head.
“It's worse.”
She held up another document.
A police incident report.
It concerned a previous investigation into Hale.
The case had been closed.
The reporting officer?
William Carter.
Arthur looked at her.
“Your father knew.”
Elena nodded.
“And that's why he warned me.”
Suddenly, headlights appeared outside.
A vehicle stopped near the warehouse.
Elena turned off the flashlight.
Arthur whispered:
“Someone's here.”
The door opened.
Footsteps entered the building.
A man's voice echoed through the darkness.
“She's here.”
Elena's blood ran cold.
They had been followed.
Arthur grabbed Elena's arm.
“Back door.”
They moved quietly through the storage area.
The voices grew closer.
“Search the office.”
Elena recognized one voice.
Sheriff Carter.
She nearly stopped.
Arthur pulled her forward.
They reached the rear exit.
The door was locked.
Arthur searched his pockets.
“No key.”
Elena looked around.
A window.
Too small.
Then she saw an emergency exit sign.
They pushed the door.
It opened.
Cold night air rushed in.
They ran.
Behind them, someone shouted.
“Stop!”
They crossed the field.
Arthur stumbled.
Elena caught him.
“Are you okay?”
“Keep going.”
They reached the road.
A pickup truck approached.
Elena waved.
The truck stopped.
The driver was a woman named Grace Miller.
She recognized Elena.
“What happened?”
“Please,” Elena said. “Drive.”
Grace didn't ask questions.
She opened the passenger door.
Arthur climbed in.
Elena followed.
The truck sped away.
Behind them, Carter emerged from the warehouse.
He watched the truck disappear.
His face was furious.
He pulled out his phone.
“We have a problem.”
A voice answered.
“What kind?”
“She found the files.”
Silence.
Then:
“How much?”