Chương 13
Before he could answer, the hospital door opened.
A uniformed officer stepped inside.
His face was tense.
“Detective.”
Pike turned.
The officer looked at Shaw too.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Mercer’s gone.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Pike said, “Gone where?”
The officer swallowed.
“Transport vehicle was stopped three blocks from the station.”
“By who?”
“Someone used an unmarked SUV with emergency lights.”
Shaw’s expression turned hard.
“Impersonating law enforcement?”
“Looks like it.”
“Officers?”
“One injured.”
“And Daniel?”
“Taken.”
Noah stared at me.
I could not move.
Then my phone vibrated one more time.
This message was not in capitals.
It was written exactly the way Daniel texted me.
Claire, I am so sorry.
Do not let them take you anywhere.
I stared at the message until the letters blurred.
Noah read it over my shoulder.
“That’s him.”
Pike stepped closer.
“You’re sure?”
“That’s how Dad writes.”
I looked at Shaw.
“Can the message be traced?”
“Eventually.”
“That means no.”
“It means not fast enough to base a safety decision on.”
My phone vibrated again.
This time there was only an address.
I knew it.
An old municipal records building near the river, abandoned after flooding years ago.
Below it, Daniel had written one more line.
Come only if you choose to know why 2009 never ended.
Pike said, “You are not going.”
Shaw said, “Agreed.”
I looked at Noah.
He looked terrified.
That decided it.
“I am.”
“No,” Noah said.
“I’m not taking you.”
“That’s not better.”
Pike stepped between me and the door.
“Claire, whoever took Daniel may be using him to lure you.”
“Then you follow.”
“They told you not to.”
“They also told me not to let you move me.”
Shaw said, “Which means they’re trying to isolate you.”
“Or Daniel is trying to keep me away from someone inside law enforcement.”
Pike’s jaw tightened.
The room held that possibility for a second.
Then Noah said, “Take my phone.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Dad took ours because he didn’t want location tracking.”
His voice shook, but he kept going.
“If Mom carries mine and you don’t tell anyone outside this room, you can follow without using dispatch.”
Pike stared at him.
“That is not how we run an operation.”
Noah looked back.
“Tonight isn’t exactly your department’s best advertisement.”
Pike flinched.
Shaw almost smiled.
Then he said, “It’s reckless.”
“So is letting whoever this is keep deciding everything.”
I looked at him.
“You said urgency is how they control us.”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t be urgent.”
He frowned.
“I go where they asked.”
“No armed convoy, no radios broadcasting the address.”
“You expect us to allow that?”
“I expect you to decide whether catching them matters more than making me obedient.”
Pike rubbed both hands over his face.
“This family is exhausting.”
Noah said, “We’ve had a long day.”
Twenty minutes later, I left the hospital in borrowed scrubs and my own shoes.
Noah stayed with two officers Pike personally selected after checking their assignments and identities twice.
I hated leaving him.
He hated me for going.
Neither of us pretended otherwise.
Before I walked out, he grabbed my wrist.
“If Dad tells you he did everything for us, don’t let that erase what he did.”
I swallowed.
“It won’t.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
He let go.
Pike drove me in an unmarked sedan but stopped three blocks from the old records building.
Shaw followed separately.
They carried no visible emergency lights and used encrypted phones instead of the normal radio channel.
I kept Noah’s phone in my pocket with location sharing enabled to Pike alone.
The building stood behind a chain-link fence with one section already cut open.
I went through it by myself.
My legs still felt weak from the sedative.
Every step reminded me that Daniel had put it there.
The side door was unlocked.
Inside, the air smelled of wet concrete and old paper.
A battery lantern glowed at the far end of a corridor.
Daniel sat on the floor beneath it with his hands bound in front of him.
His lip was split.
One sleeve was dark with blood near the shoulder.
I stopped.
“Daniel.”
He looked up.
Relief crossed his face.
Then fear.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“You asked me to.”
“I didn’t know if the messages would reach you.”
“Who has your phone?”
He looked toward a doorway behind him.
“Graham.”
A man stepped into the corridor.
Graham Harker looked older than I remembered but still immaculate.
His white hair was combed neatly.
His coat was dry despite the damp building.
He held no gun.
That frightened me more than if he had.
“Claire.”
His voice was exactly as I remembered from that Christmas party.
Smooth.
Polite.
Almost bored.
“You always did ask the better questions.”
Daniel tried to stand.
Graham put one hand on his shoulder.
Daniel sat back down.
I said, “Where is Erin?”
“Safe enough.”
“Marcus?”
Graham’s expression changed only slightly.
“Marcus made an unfortunate decision.”
Daniel looked at me.
“He tried to go to the FBI without telling us.”
Graham sighed.
“Daniel still thinks confession is the same as courage.”
I looked at Daniel.
“What happened in 2009?”
He closed his eyes.
Graham answered.
“Lena Cross discovered a system.”
“What system?”
“Off-book transfers.”
“Four million dollars?”
Graham smiled faintly.
“Four million is nothing.”
Daniel said, “Back then it was laundering.”
Graham corrected him.
“Asset protection.”
“For criminal clients.”
“Some.”
I looked at Daniel.
“And you knew?”
His face crumpled.
“I found out after Lena did.”
“What did you do?”
“I copied records.”
“You kept copies.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you go to police?”
He looked away.
Graham answered for him.
“Because Daniel had signed approvals he did not fully understand.”
Daniel said, “They made it look like I was involved.”
Graham shrugged.
“He was involved.”
“You threatened him.”
“I explained consequences.”
“Lena died.”
For the first time, Graham’s expression hardened.
“She was drinking.”
May you like
Daniel shouted, “She had one glass of wine.”
His voice echoed through the corridor.
