“My dad owned a towing company.”
Dana looked at her notes.
“Ruiz Recovery.”
“Yes.”
“Your father’s company towed Carter’s vehicle.”
“Yes.”
My pulse increased.
Ruiz rubbed his hands together.
“I was riding with him that night.”
Dana asked:
“Did you see the crash?”
“No.”
“Then what did you see?”
Ruiz’s eyes filled.
“We got called before the crash was reported.”
Nathan whispered:
“Oh, God.”
Dana leaned forward.
“Explain.”
“My dad got a private call. We drove toward County Road 19. When we arrived, Carter’s truck was already over the guardrail.”
“Who was there?”
Ruiz looked at the table.
“Cole Harris.”
My chest tightened.
“And?”
“Sergeant Boone.”
Dana asked:
“Was Michael Carter alive?”
Ruiz started crying.
“Yes.”
I stopped breathing.
Behind the glass, Nathan grabbed the edge of the table.
Dana’s voice remained steady.
“You’re sure?”
“He was hurt. But he was alive.”
The room seemed to disappear around me.
I saw my father at the bottom of the embankment.
Alive.
Waiting.
Dana asked:
“What happened?”
Ruiz wiped his face.
“Cole climbed down.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long was he there?”
“Maybe five minutes.”
“What happened when he came back?”
“He had a watch.”
My entire body went cold.
Ruiz continued.
“Boone asked if Carter had it. Cole said yes.”
Dana asked:
“Did they call an ambulance?”
Ruiz shook his head.
“Not immediately.”
“How long?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes.”
Nathan whispered something I couldn’t hear.
Dana asked:
“Why?”
“My dad wanted to call. Boone told him not to.”
“And Michael Carter?”
Ruiz broke.
“He died before EMS arrived.”
I pressed both hands against the glass.
My father had survived the crash.
Cole had gone down to him.
Taken the watch.
Then they waited.
Fifteen minutes.
Maybe my father could have lived.
Maybe he could not.
But they had waited.
Dana let Ruiz compose himself.
Then asked:
“Why didn’t your father report this?”
“Boone paid him.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw the money.”
“And you?”
“I was sixteen. My dad told me if I ever talked, they’d destroy our family.”
“Why become a police officer?”
Ruiz looked up.
That answer changed everything.
“Because I wanted to prove it.”
Nathan turned toward me.
Ruiz continued.
“My father died six years ago. Before he died, he told me he hated himself for staying quiet. He said if I ever had a chance to make it right, I should.”
“So you joined Harris’s department?”
“Yes.”
“To investigate them?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“At first, I thought maybe I could find something. I didn’t trust outside investigators. I didn’t know who had been bought.”
Dana asked, “When did you contact state authorities?”
“Eleven months ago.”
Nathan stared at the glass.
Ruiz had been working with Dana.
That was why Dana arrived so quickly.
That was why there had already been an investigation.
That was why Nathan had said keep recording.
Dana had been listening to a secure channel established partly through Ruiz.
I looked at Nathan.
“You knew?”
“Not his identity.”
“You knew there was someone inside?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know who it was.”
Ruiz continued his statement.
Then Dana asked the question that had been haunting me.
“Why did Cole keep Michael Carter’s watch?”
Ruiz swallowed.
“He thought the recording was inside.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“No.”
“Did Cole ever know that?”
Ruiz nodded.
“He opened it after Evelyn Carter died.”
My pulse increased.
“What did he find?”
Ruiz looked toward the mirrored glass.
Toward us.
Then he said:
“A key.”
Nathan stood.
“What key?”
Dana asked.
Ruiz answered:
“I don’t know.”
My heart pounded.
The watch had not contained the recording.
But it had contained something.
A key.
And Cole had removed it days before stopping me.
13. COLE’S LAST BARGAIN
Cole Harris requested a meeting.
He wanted a plea agreement.
In exchange, he offered information about the key.
Nathan opposed it.
Dana didn’t.
“Information has value,” she said.
“He left Michael dying in a ditch.”
“I know.”
“He targeted Lena.”
“I know.”
“And you’re giving him something?”
“I’m listening. That’s different.”
Cole refused to speak unless I was present.
That made no sense.
I wanted to say no.
Instead, I said yes.
We met in a federal courthouse interview room.
Cole wore county jail clothing instead of his uniform.
Without the badge, he looked smaller.
Not harmless.
Just smaller.
His eyes settled on me.
“Lena.”
“Don’t use my name.”
A tiny smile.
“You look like your mother.”
Nathan tensed beside me.
Dana said:
“Tell us about the key.”
Cole looked at Nathan.
“You still following her around?”
Nathan said nothing.
Cole laughed.
“My dad always said you were obsessed with the Carters.”
“Talk about the key.”
Cole leaned back.
“Michael had it in his watch.”
“What does it open?”
“Safety deposit box.”
“Where?”
“Don’t know.”
Dana stared at him.
“Then you have nothing to bargain with.”
“I know who does.”
“Who?”
Cole looked at me.
“Evelyn.”
I almost laughed.
“My mother is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“She moved the box.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we checked every bank in three counties years ago.”
Nathan narrowed his eyes.
“Not every bank.”
Cole smiled.
“Exactly.”
He enjoyed this.
Even sitting in jail clothes, he enjoyed making us wait for answers.