She was already signaling investigators.
“You touch my daughter—”
“I don't need to touch her. I need the ledger.”
“No.”
Rebecca shouted in the background.
“Dad, don't—”
The line went quiet.
Then Cole said, “Bring it to mile marker 10.”
Of course.
Everything came back to that road.
“One hour.”
He hung up.
Lila immediately called local tactical units.
I grabbed her wrist.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“He has your daughter.”
“And someone inside law enforcement is warning them.”
“We handle this.”
“You said that before Chief Cole reached the evidence four minutes after I called.”
Her face tightened.
Nathan said, “Frank's right.”
Lila turned on him.
“Do not encourage him.”
“I’m not. I'm stating a fact.”
Barnes had been silent near the doorway.
Now he stepped forward.
“I know where Cole will actually take her.”
I looked at him.
“Where?”
“He won't stay at the culvert.”
“Then why send me there?”
“Because there is an abandoned rail maintenance building about half a mile east through the woods.”
Nathan remembered it.
“Old Section House.”
Barnes nodded.
“Cole and his father used it.”
“For what?”
Barnes looked ashamed.
“Questioning people they didn't want seen at the station.”
My hands became fists.
Lila said, “We're moving.”
This time no one argued.
The sun was just beginning to rise when we reached Route 17.
Fog lay low across the fields.
I drove my own truck.
The ledger sat on the passenger seat inside a canvas bag.
It was a copy.
Lila had the original.
Cole didn't know that.
He also didn't know Barnes was with us.
That mattered.
Nathan rode in the back seat.
“Frank.”
“What?”
“If something goes wrong, you stay behind the truck.”
“I spent twenty-six years—”
“You are seventy-one.”
“I noticed.”
“Then behave like it.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
We stopped near the culvert.
My phone rang.
Cole.
“Walk east.”
“I want to hear Rebecca.”
A pause.
Then my daughter's voice.
“Dad.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Rebecca—”
Cole took the phone back.
“Walk.”
I carried the bag.
Nathan remained behind.
Lila's tactical team had entered from the opposite side through the trees.
Michael Barnes moved with them.
I walked alone along the drainage ditch.
The old Section House appeared through the fog.
Broken windows.
Peeling red paint.
Half a roof.
I stepped inside.
Rebecca sat in a chair.
Her hands were tied.
Cole stood behind her.
He had a pistol.
For the first time that day, his confidence looked damaged.
His hair was disordered.
His shirt was untucked.
There was dried blood on one knuckle.
“You brought it?”
I held up the bag.
“Let her go.”
“Put it down.”
“Let her go.”
He pressed the pistol closer to Rebecca's shoulder.
“Do you really want to test me?”
I looked into his eyes.
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
Men like Cole understand fear.
They don't understand people who have already lost something worse than themselves.
I lowered the bag onto the floor.
“Kicking distance.”
I pushed it toward him with my boot.
Cole grabbed it.
He opened the bag.
Saw the ledger.
His shoulders loosened.
“There.”
I said nothing.
He flipped pages.
Then laughed.
“You stupid old man.”
Behind me, a floorboard creaked.
Cole's gun snapped upward.
“Don't!”
A figure stepped through the doorway.
Barnes.
Michael.
Cole stared at him.
“You.”
Michael kept his hands visible.
“Let them go.”
“You set us up.”
“No.”
“My father trusted you.”
“Your father threatened to kill me.”
Cole's face twisted.
“You're a coward.”
Michael shook his head.
“No. I was a coward.”
His eyes moved to me.
“Today I watched you steal from my grandfather.”
Cole looked confused.
Then slowly amused.
“What?”
Michael didn't look away from me.
“Daniel Harris was my father.”
Cole stared.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
“Well, that is perfect.”
I hated the sound.
Michael took one step forward.
Cole raised the pistol.
“Stop.”
Michael stopped.
Cole looked at me.
“You think your son was some hero?”
My jaw tightened.
“He was.”
“No. Your son was a thief too.”
The words struck harder than I expected.
Rebecca said, “He's lying.”
Cole smiled.
“Am I?”
He reached inside his jacket.
Pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
Threw it onto the floor.
“Read it.”
I didn't move.
Cole pointed the gun.
“Read it.”
I picked it up.
It was a photocopy of a ledger page.
Daniel's handwriting.
Cash amounts.
Names.
And beside several entries:
D.H. — 10%
My throat tightened.
“No.”
Cole grinned.
“Your son was part of it.”
Michael said, “That's not what those records mean.”
“You don't know.”
“I know enough.”
Cole's attention shifted toward him.
And in that second, Rebecca moved.
She threw herself sideways with the chair.
Cole instinctively turned.
I kicked the canvas bag into his knees.
He stumbled.
Michael lunged.
The gun fired.
The sound inside the old building was enormous.
Rebecca screamed.
Cole fell against the wall.
Michael hit the floor.
For one terrible instant I thought Michael had been shot.
Then tactical officers flooded the building.
“DROP THE WEAPON!”
Cole tried to raise the pistol.
Three rifles aimed at him.
His hand slowly opened.
The weapon fell.
Lila rushed to Michael.
No blood.
The bullet had gone through the wall.
I dropped beside Rebecca and untied her hands.
She grabbed me.
“Dad.”
“I've got you.”
Her whole body shook.
So did mine.
Cole was handcuffed.
Lila picked up the paper he'd thrown.
She studied it.
Then looked at me.
“This isn't proof Daniel participated.”
“What does ten percent mean?”
Michael pushed himself upright.
“I know.”
We turned.
He was breathing hard.
“My mother wrote about it.”
“About what?”
“Daniel was skimming ten percent.”
Rebecca's face collapsed.
Michael raised a hand quickly.
“Not for himself.”