Chapter 8 - The Black SUV
Mae killed the lights.
"Back door. Now."
Owen crossed the yard slowly, not hiding anymore.
Another man came from the passenger side.
I recognized him from childhood Christmas parties.
Dr. Samuel Mercer.
The physician who had drugged me after Lily disappeared.
"He should be eighty," I whispered.
"Evil ages too," Mae said.
We moved through her kitchen toward a rear exit, but the back porch light suddenly snapped on.
A third man waited outside.
Mae swore.
"Basement."
We rushed downstairs as the front door splintered.
Lily started shaking.
I took her face in my hands.
"Look at me. You're not going back."
She nodded once.
Mae opened a narrow storm hatch behind a shelf. "Crawl space leads to the alley."
We crawled through dirt while footsteps crossed the floor above us.
Then Owen shouted from the basement, "William! Your father wants to talk!"
I stopped.
Clara grabbed my ankle. "Don't."
Owen laughed.
"He says you deserve the truth from him, not these women."
Lily whispered, "Keep moving."
We reached the alley and ran to Mae's old pickup.
As she drove, I called the detective assigned to Owen's break-in.
No answer.
Mae looked at me. "Which detective?"
"Cal Brooks."
Her hands tightened on the wheel.
"His father was the deputy chief Harold paid."
My stomach sank.
Mae drove straight to a state police office outside the county.
For the first time, we gave investigators everything: tape, photos, bank records, threats, names.
A state investigator named Lena Ortiz listened without interrupting.
When we finished, she said, "If Harold Carter is alive, we need proof that can survive court, not just a photograph."
Lily leaned forward.
"I know where he is."
Everyone looked at her.
"The lake house," she said. "But there's something else there."
"What?" I asked.
May you like
Her voice dropped.
"The original ledger."
