Julian looked at her.
“Voss?”
“She has a head start, access to department vehicles, and at least three officers who may still be loyal to her. The state bureau has issued an alert, but we don’t know where she’s going.”
“Then we find out.”
“How?”
Julian glanced at the frozen image of his father.
“By discovering what she’s afraid of.”
He turned toward Ruth Briggs.
“You said my father copied the original evidence records. Did he ever mention anyone else who helped him?”
Ruth wiped her eyes.
“He spoke about a clerk at the courthouse. A young woman who worked in the judge’s chambers.”
“Name?”
“Evelyn Cross.”
Mara immediately opened her notebook.
“Was she involved in the trial?”
“She was responsible for preparing documents for Judge Adrian Mercer. Thomas believed she had discovered discrepancies in the evidence logs.”
“Where is she now?” Julian asked.
Ruth shook her head.
“I don’t know. She resigned shortly after your father was convicted. Some people said she moved away. Others said she died.”
Julian frowned.
“People said?”
“That was all I ever heard.”
Mara exchanged a look with him.
A missing courthouse clerk. A sealed recording. A handwritten warning.
The investigation had become a maze of people who had disappeared just when their testimony mattered most.
Then Julian’s phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
STOP LOOKING FOR THE CHILD. YOUR FATHER ALREADY PAID THE PRICE.
A second message appeared before he could respond.
It contained a photograph.
Julian recognized the place immediately: the front steps of his childhood home.
His father stood beside a younger Julian, one hand resting on his son’s shoulder.
Someone had circled Julian’s face in red.
Beneath the photograph were four words.
YOU WERE THE OTHER CHILD.
For several seconds, Julian could not move.
Mara read the message over his shoulder.
“Julian?”
He enlarged the photograph.
He had been eleven years old when it was taken. His father had been convicted two years later, and the family had never recovered. Julian remembered reporters outside their home, neighbors whispering, and his mother locking the doors before sunset.
But he had no memory of being involved in anything connected to the case.
“What does this mean?” Mara asked.
Julian stared at the photograph.
“I don’t know.”
Yet somewhere deep inside him, a forgotten memory began to stir.
A dark hallway.
A door left open.
His father’s voice, urgent and unfamiliar.
Whatever happens, you must never tell them what you saw.
Julian closed his eyes.
He had always believed those words referred to the corruption Thomas had uncovered.
Now he wondered whether they had meant something far more personal.
At dawn, the state bureau established a secure command center in a government building outside Bellwether.
Gideon Shaw, still in custody, had agreed to provide a formal statement in exchange for legal representation. Victor Hale was being questioned separately. Nolan Briggs had requested immunity before discussing the events of 2003.
None of them knew where Marianne Voss had gone.
But the investigators had recovered one useful detail from the department vehicle she had taken.
A traffic camera had recorded it heading north toward the abandoned industrial district.
Mara spread a map across the conference table.
“The vehicle was last seen near the old Calder Paper Mill.”
Julian studied the location.
“Why would she go there?”
“Your father’s evidence records mention the mill.”
He looked up sharply.
“What records?”
“An inventory entry from September 2003. One shipment of seized documents was marked for temporary storage at Calder. The entry was later crossed out, and the storage location was changed to the courthouse basement.”
“Who authorized the change?”
Mara pointed to the document.
“Judge Adrian Mercer.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“So the judge who convicted my father also redirected the evidence.”
“Possibly. We need the original documents before we can prove why.”
Julian picked up his coat.
“Then we go to Calder.”
Mara blocked his path.
“Not without the state investigators.”
“I’m not waiting while Voss destroys another piece of evidence.”
“And walking into a location where she may have armed officers waiting is exactly what she wants you to do.”
Julian stopped.
Mara’s voice softened.
“Your father spent twenty-three years being punished for a system he tried to expose. Don’t let that system turn you into someone who ignores the rules when they become inconvenient.”
He looked away.
She was right, and he hated that she was right.
“Fine,” he said. “We take the investigators. But I want the evidence team ready before we arrive.”
Within forty minutes, a convoy of unmarked vehicles left Bellwether.
Julian sat beside Mara in the lead car. Two state investigators followed behind them, while a tactical unit approached the mill from the opposite road.
The industrial district was almost deserted. Rusted machinery stood behind broken fences, and weeds had swallowed the loading docks. The Calder Paper Mill had closed fifteen years earlier, leaving behind a skeleton of brick buildings and shattered windows.
As their vehicles stopped, Julian noticed something strange.
A light was burning inside the main warehouse.
Someone was there.
The tactical team moved first, securing the entrances before allowing Julian and Mara inside.
The warehouse smelled of damp paper and machine oil. Rows of empty shelves stretched into the distance. At the far end, a metal door stood slightly open.
A state investigator raised a hand.
“Wait.”
From beyond the door came the sound of a woman speaking.
“You should have stayed out of this, Julian.”
Marianne Voss stepped into view.
She wore a dark coat and carried no visible weapon. Two officers stood behind her, but neither looked comfortable.
Between them was an older woman with silver hair and a bruised cheek.
Julian stopped breathing.
He recognized her from the photograph attached to the old court records.
Evelyn Cross.
The missing clerk.
Voss rested a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder.
“Everyone has a breaking point,” she said. “Your father discovered that twenty-three years ago. Now you’re going to discover it yourself.”
Julian took one step forward.
“Let her go.”
“Of course.”
Voss smiled.