Chương 13
“Could be Wes.”
“Could be Diana.”
“Her phone is with Harold.”
“Could have another.”
“Could be Keene?”
“He’s in a hospital bed with two deputies.”
“Then someone else.”
“Send screenshots.”
I did.
“Reeves, if it’s Voss trying to redirect entry—”
“I know.”
“Roof access could be a trap.”
“I know.”
“Front camera could be nothing.”
“I know.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“I hate this.”
“I know that too.”
Then he lowered his voice.
“We got the fire plans.”
“And?”
“There is roof access.”
“From where?”
“Adjacent unit.”
“What adjacent unit?”
“Former cabinet shop.”
“Occupied?”
“Vacant.”
“So entry without crossing Voss’s cameras.”
“Possibly.”
“Don’t tell me anything else.”
He went quiet.
That surprised him.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
He hung up.
I sat down again.
Emma’s hand had slipped from mine.
I tucked the blanket around her shoulder.
Elena had always done that unnecessarily, even in summer.
She said children slept better when somebody fixed the blanket.
I had told her that was nonsense.
I fixed it anyway.
At 9:42, Reeves called.
I answered before the first ring finished.
“We have Diana.”
My knees went weak.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Condition?”
“Conscious.”
“Harold?”
“Custody.”
I closed my eyes.
“How?”
“Tactical entered from adjacent roof.”
“The message was right.”
“Yes.”
“Any shots?”
“No.”
“Injuries?”
“Diana has a scalp wound, probably from hitting a metal shelf.”
“The impact we heard.”
“Likely.”
“Harold?”
“Minor cuts.”
“What was he doing?”
“Trying to destroy drives.”
“What drives?”
“Servers.”
“At the office?”
“Small local storage array.”
“Records?”
“Apparently.”
“Recovered?”
“Some.”
“Fire?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because people who think they’re smarter than everyone else often believe delete means gone.”
I sat in the empty chair across from Emma’s bed.
“Did Diana talk?”
“She asked for an attorney.”
“Good.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m relieved.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
Reeves let that sit.
“Harold said something when we cuffed him.”
“What?”
“He asked whether Emma was alive.”
Every muscle in my back tightened.
“Why?”
“He claims concern.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Then no.”
I looked at my daughter.
“What did he expect?”
“We’re going to find out.”
“Reeves.”
“Yeah?”
“The sender knew the roof access.”
“I know.”
“That means they were either involved or had inside knowledge.”
“I know.”
“Who else has Voss records?”
“More people than we thought.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the company wasn’t just doing this in our neighborhood.”
I stood.
“How many?”
“We have preliminary folders from six associations.”
My mouth went dry.
“Same classifications?”
“Looks similar.”
“Children?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Medical data?”
“We’ve seen references.”
“Sources?”
“Still unknown.”
“And Covenant Compliance?”
“Shell vendor.”
“Controlled by Voss?”
“That’s where the evidence is pointing.”
“What about Wes?”
“He says Voss offered him debt relief to let the company use his name.”
“Did he take it?”
“Yes.”
That hurt in a different way.
“So he lied.”
“About some things.”
“He knew.”
“He knew money was moving.”
“Did he know about Emma?”
“He says no.”
“Believe him?”
“Not entirely.”
I watched Emma breathe.
“What happens now?”
“Now this gets bigger than us.”
“State?”
“Likely.”
“Federal?”
“Possibly, depending on the data trail and insurance side.”
“And Diana?”
“She’s going to the hospital under guard.”
“Same hospital?”
“No.”
I exhaled.
Reeves knew exactly what that meant.
“Robert.”
“I’m here.”
“You didn’t go.”
“No.”
“That mattered.”
I looked at Emma’s sleeping face.
“It didn’t feel like enough.”
“It never does.”
For the first time all day, I did not argue with him.
Then Reeves said, “There’s something you should know before tomorrow.”
My stomach tightened again.
“What?”
“We found your black folder.”
“Where?”
“On a desk at the satellite office.”
“Contents?”
“Most of them are there.”
“Most?”
“One certified copy of Elena’s death certificate is missing.”
I stared at the floor.
“Why would Harold need that?”
“We don’t know.”
“Anything else missing?”
“Emma’s insurance card copy.”
My hand closed around the bed rail.
“And?”
“A guardianship authorization form.”
“What guardianship form?”
“The one naming Mrs. Gable as emergency caregiver if you’re unavailable.”
I stopped.
“That’s not medical data.”
“No.”
“That’s not insurance.”
“No.”
“Why take it?”
“We’re working on that.”
I looked through the glass toward the dark hospital corridor.
Then I remembered the classification sheet.
Five means remove.
The word felt different now.
Not eviction.
Not discipline.
Not property.
I looked at Emma.
“Reeves.”
“Yeah?”
“Check whether Voss has ever billed associations for emergency child placement.”
The silence on the line lasted long enough to scare me.
Then he said, very carefully, “Why would you ask that?”
“Because somebody stole the document showing who gets Emma if I disappear.”
Reeves did not answer for several seconds.
When he finally did, his voice had lost the tired edge.
“Do not go anywhere.”
“I’m not.”
“I mean it.”
“I’m sitting beside her.”
“Good.”
He hung up.
I stayed there with Emma’s hand under mine and listened to the machines keep time.
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Gable arrived carrying Emma’s overnight bag, my clean jeans, a phone charger, and the expression of someone who had spent the last six hours deciding whether crying counted as useful.
She put the bag down and looked at Emma.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Emma woke enough to smile.
“Hi.”
Mrs. Gable touched two fingers to her own mouth.
Then she looked at me.
“I fed your cat.”
“We don’t have a cat.”
“The orange one.”
“That belongs to the Delgados.”
“Well, he ate.”
It was such a Mrs. Gable thing to say that I laughed.
One short, ugly laugh.
She started laughing too.
Then she cried anyway.
Emma said, “Dad says people can be two things.”
Mrs. Gable wiped her face.
“Your father says a lot of things.”
“Mostly wrong things.”
“That also sounds right.”
I changed in the bathroom because my uniform pants had dried stiff from the ambulance ride.
When I came out in jeans and an old county softball shirt, Emma looked relieved.
“You look normal.”
“Dangerous statement.”
May you like
“You look less sheriff.”
That one stayed with me.
