A local law enforcement officer who allegedly provided confidential information to the criminals.
Michael flipped through the pages until he found a photograph.
A younger man stood beside a black SUV, wearing sunglasses and a police uniform.
The name beneath the picture read:
DEREK SHAW.
Michael stared at it.
"Well, I'll be damned."
Rachel looked up.
"What is it?"
Michael handed her the photograph.
"Shaw wasn't just a random officer who happened to stop Arthur."
"What do you mean?"
"Arthur testified in the investigation that nearly destroyed the people Shaw was connected to."
Rachel studied the image.
"Are you saying Shaw recognized him?"
"I don't know."
Michael's voice became grim.
"But if he did, this may have nothing to do with three thousand dollars."
He reached for his coat.
"Get the car ready."
"Where are we going?"
"Pine HolloChoic
Back at the police station, Ethan Brooks stood in the hallway outside Interview Room Three.
He had been there for nearly ten minutes.
Through the closed door, he could hear Arthur coughing occasionally.
Ethan looked toward the end of the corridor.
Derek Shaw was in the break room, speaking quietly with Detective Harold Vance.
Ethan couldn't hear every word, but he caught enough.
"...old man's asking too many questions."
Vance replied, "Then make sure he doesn't become a problem."
Ethan felt his chest tighten.
He had joined the police department because he believed the badge meant something.
His father had been a firefighter. His grandfather had served in the military.
Growing up, Ethan had been taught that authority came with responsibility.
But during his eight months in Pine Hollow, he had seen things that troubled him.
Traffic stops that ended with missing cash.
Evidence bags that never reached the property room.
Reports rewritten after supervisors reviewed them.
And officers who laughed about people too poor to hire lawyers.
At first, Ethan told himself he was misunderstanding what he saw.
Then he began keeping notes.
Dates.
Times.
Vehicle numbers.
Names.
He had not yet decided what to do with them.
But today was different.
Today, he had watched Derek Shaw take three thousand dollars from an elderly man without documenting it.
And he had done nothing.
Ethan approached Interview Room Three.
He opened the door.
Arthur looked up.
"Officer Brooks."
Ethan stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"Mr. Morgan, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, son."
"Do you need water?"
"That would be nice."
Ethan placed a paper cup on the table.
Arthur studied him.
"Something's bothering you."
Ethan looked toward the camera.
Arthur followed his gaze.
"Is it recording?"
Ethan hesitated.
"I don't know."
Arthur nodded slowly.
"Then perhaps we should assume it is."
The young officer swallowed.
"Mr. Morgan, I want you to know that what happened on the road..."
He stopped.
Arthur waited.
Ethan lowered his voice.
"It wasn't right."
Arthur said nothing for a moment.
Then he asked, "Why didn't you stop him?"
The question landed harder than an accusation.
Ethan stared at the floor.
"Because I was afraid."
Arthur's expression softened.
"Of losing your job?"
"Of losing everything."
"Do you have a family?"
"My wife. She's pregnant."
Arthur nodded.
"Congratulations."
Ethan gave a sad smile.
"Thank you."
"What's her name?"
"Emily."
"Does Emily know what's happening here?"
Ethan looked up sharply.
"What do you mean?"
Arthur leaned forward.
"Does she know the kind of things you've been asked to ignore?"
Ethan didn't answer.
Arthur continued quietly.
"Fear is a powerful thing, son. It convinces good people that silence is the same as safety."
Ethan's eyes filled with uncertainty.
"You don't understand what Shaw can do."
"Then tell me."
Ethan glanced at the door.
"People who complain about him have a way of regretting it."
Arthur remained still.
"Like Leonard Bishop?"
Ethan's face went pale.
"How do you know that name?"
Arthur watched him carefully.
"So you know Leonard."
Ethan took a step backward.
"I shouldn't be talking about this."
"Was he murdered?"
"I don't know."
"Did Shaw threaten him?"
Ethan's breathing quickened.
"Please, Mr. Morgan. Stop asking questions."
Arthur lowered his voice.
"Ethan, look at me."
The young officer reluctantly met his eyes.
"Whatever you've seen, whatever you know, there are people who can help you tell the truth safely. But you need to decide what kind of man you want to be."
Ethan stood motionless.
Then he reached into his pocket.
He removed a small folded piece of paper and placed it on the table.
"Don't open it until I'm gone."
Arthur looked at the paper.
"What is it?"
Ethan whispered, "Something I found two weeks ago."
Before Arthur could ask another question, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Ethan quickly stepped away from the table.
The door opened.
Derek Shaw stood in the doorway.
His eyes moved from Ethan to Arthur.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Ethan straightened.
"Just bringing him water."
Shaw stared at him.
"Did I tell you to do that?"
"No, sir."
"Then get out."
Ethan left.
Shaw stepped inside.
He closed the door.
And locked it.
Arthur glanced at the folded paper now hidden beneath his hand.
Shaw pulled out the chair opposite him.
"Now," he said softly, "where were we?"
Derek Shaw placed a manila folder on the table.
Arthur noticed it was unusually thick.
The officer opened it slowly.
Inside were several photographs.
He pushed the first one across the table.
Arthur looked down.
It showed him standing outside his daughter's house.
The photograph had been taken recently.
Very recently.
Arthur recognized the blue pickup parked in the driveway and the flowerpots his daughter had bought the previous weekend.
Shaw watched his reaction.
"Nice house."
Arthur remained silent.
Shaw pushed another photograph forward.
This one showed Arthur's daughter, Caroline, leaving a grocery store.
The third showed his twelve-year-old granddaughter, Lily, getting off a school bus.
Arthur felt a cold pressure in his chest.
He raised his eyes.
"Where did you get these?"
Shaw leaned back.
"Small town. People notice things."
"Why are you following my family?"
The officer smiled.
"Following? That's a serious accusation."
Arthur stared at the photographs.
"What do you want?"
Shaw folded his arms.
"That's better."
Arthur said nothing.
Shaw leaned forward.
"Eleven years ago, you helped put some very important people in prison."
Arthur's expression didn't change.
"You'll have to be more specific."
"Hollow Ridge Development."
Arthur felt his pulse quicken.
Shaw noticed.
"There it is. You remember."
"I remember the investigation."
"Then you remember a man named Victor Langley."
Arthur did.
Victor Langley had been the president of Hollow Ridge Development.
He had orchestrated a massive investment fraud that robbed hundreds of families of their retirement savings.
Arthur's financial analysis had helped prosecutors prove how the money moved through shell companies and offshore accounts.
Langley received a twenty-five-year prison sentence.
He died behind bars six years later.
"What about him?" Arthur asked.
Shaw's face darkened.
"He was my uncle."
Arthur stared at him.
The room seemed suddenly smaller.
Shaw continued.
"My mother lost her house because of what happened. My family lost everything."
Arthur's voice remained calm.
"Your uncle stole people's money."
"He built a business!"
"He built a fraud."
Shaw slammed his fist onto the table.
"YOU RUINED MY FAMILY!"
Arthur didn't move.
"No, Derek. Victor Langley ruined your family when he chose to steal from innocent people."
Shaw's face reddened.
For a moment, Arthur thought the officer might strike him.
Instead, Shaw stood and began pacing.