The rain had been falling over Millbrook for nearly three hours when an old black sedan slowly pulled into the parking lot of a small roadside gas station.
Behind the steering wheel sat Walter Hayes, a 71-year-old man with silver hair, tired eyes, and a faded brown coat.
He had driven nearly two hundred miles that morning to visit his younger sister, who had recently undergone surgery.
On the passenger seat lay a small leather briefcase. Inside it were several old photographs, a newspaper clipping, and a sealed envelope he had carried for almost fifteen years.
Walter stepped out of the car and walked toward the gas station.
He had barely reached the entrance when a police cruiser suddenly pulled into the parking lot.
Two officers stepped out.
The first was Lieutenant Marcus Reed, a tall, muscular man in his late thirties. His reputation around Millbrook was well known. He was feared by ordinary citizens and protected by several powerful people.
The second officer was Daniel Price, a young patrolman who had joined the department only six months earlier.
"Hey, you! Stop right there!"
Walter turned around.
"Good afternoon, Officer. Is something wrong?"
Marcus approached him with an irritated expression.
"Your vehicle matches the description of a car reported near a robbery this morning."
Walter looked surprised.
"That must be a mistake. I've been driving all morning."
"License and registration."
Walter calmly handed over his documents.
Marcus examined them, then glanced toward the old sedan.
"Where did you get the money to buy that car?"
Walter frowned.
"It's been mine for twelve years."
"That's not what I asked."
The older man remained polite.
"I don't understand why you're questioning me."
Marcus stepped closer.
"People like you always have an explanation."
Daniel shifted uncomfortably.
"Lieutenant, perhaps we should check the vehicle registration first."
Marcus shot him an angry look.
"Did I ask for your opinion?"
The younger officer immediately fell silent.
Marcus ordered Walter to open his briefcase.
Inside were several documents, an old photograph of a woman standing beside a police chief, and the sealed envelope.
Marcus picked up the photograph.
"Who's this?"
"My late wife."
"And the man standing beside her?"
Walter looked at the photograph for a moment.
"Someone I once worked with."
Marcus laughed.
"An interesting collection for an old man."
He then grabbed the sealed envelope.
"What's inside?"
"Personal documents. I'd appreciate it if you didn't damage them."
Marcus tore the envelope open.
Several official-looking papers slipped onto the wet pavement.
Walter immediately bent down to retrieve them.
"Careful! Those documents are important."
Marcus pushed his shoulder.
"Don't tell me how to do my job!"
Walter stumbled backward, nearly falling.
Daniel instinctively stepped forward, but Marcus raised his hand to stop him.
Then something caught the lieutenant's attention.
One of the documents bore the official seal of the State Inspector General's Office.
Marcus picked it up.
His expression changed.
"Where did you get this?"
Walter looked directly into his eyes.
"I didn't get it from anywhere. It belongs to me."
Marcus folded the document and slipped it into his pocket.
"You're coming with us."
"For what reason?"
"Possession of suspicious government documents. Obstruction. And whatever else we discover."
Walter stared at him.
"Officer, I think you should make one phone call before doing something you'll regret."
Marcus burst into laughter.
"Are you threatening me?"
"No," Walter answered quietly. "I'm giving you an opportunity."
Marcus grabbed his arm and forced him toward the police cruiser.
The gas station attendant watched through the window, too frightened to intervene.
Daniel followed them reluctantly.
As Walter sat in the back seat, he looked at the young officer.
"What's your name?"
"Daniel Price."
"How long have you been working here?"
"Six months."
Walter nodded slowly.
"Then perhaps you still have time to make the right decision."
Daniel looked away.
The cruiser pulled onto the highway.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Walter asked Marcus a question.
"Have you ever heard of Commissioner Robert Whitmore?"
Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"Why are you asking?"
"Because he was the last person who signed the original investigation report."
The lieutenant suddenly slammed on the brakes.
Daniel nearly struck his head against the dashboard.
Marcus turned around.
"Where did you hear that name?"
Walter calmly adjusted his coat.
"From the man who investigated your department fifteen years ago."
Marcus stared at him.
Then he laughed nervously.
"That man has been dead for years."
Walter reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an old photograph.
He held it toward the front seat.
The photograph showed a younger Walter standing beside Commissioner Whitmore in front of the State Police Headquarters.
But that wasn't what made Marcus freeze.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten message:
TO WALTER HAYES β THE ONLY MAN WHO KNOWS WHERE THE ORIGINAL EVIDENCE IS HIDDEN.
Marcus suddenly snatched the photograph.
"Who are you?"
Walter looked out through the rain-covered window.
"My name is Walter Hayes. And fifteen years ago, I was the chief investigator in the case that nearly sent half this department to prison."
The cruiser fell silent.
Daniel slowly turned toward his superior.
Marcus's face had lost its color.
Because he remembered that investigation.
He remembered the missing evidence.
He remembered the officers who had disappeared.
And most importantly, he remembered the name of the one witness who had never been found.
Walter Hayes.
Marcus reached for his radio.
But before he could speak, the radio crackled.
A commanding voice came through.
"All units, stand by. Emergency order from the State Inspector General."
Marcus froze.
The voice continued.
"Lieutenant Marcus Reed, immediately surrender your badge and firearm. Your vehicle has been identified in an active criminal investigation."
Daniel stared at his superior.
Walter slowly closed his eyes.
He had not come to Millbrook looking for revenge.
He had simply wanted to visit his sister.
But now, after fifteen years of silence, the truth was finally coming back.
And this time, nobody would be able to bury it.
The rain fell heavily over Millbrook that afternoon.