Chapter 5
I replayed the recording three times.
Each time, Thomas Reed's voice sounded weaker.
Each time, the final sentence made less sense.
She is the reason they kept me alive.
I looked at Marcus.
"What does that mean?"
He shook his head.
"We need more information."
For once, his calmness irritated me.
I wanted answers.
I wanted them immediately.
But I knew better than anyone that rushing could destroy an investigation.
I placed the recorder into an evidence pouch.
"Have the forensic team examine it."
Marcus nodded.
Then my phone rang.
The caller was Sarah Mitchell.
"General, we recovered documents from the Carter residence."
My heart accelerated.
"The hidden compartment?"
"Yes."
"What did you find?"
She hesitated.
"Photographs. Financial records. Several handwritten letters."
"Anything connected to Silver Bridge?"
"Yes. But there's more."
I waited.
"There's a file bearing your name."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What kind of file?"
"A personal background dossier."
I closed my eyes.
Richard had kept information about me.
Of course he had.
"What does it contain?"
"Your military education. Your assignments. Your promotions. Your professional contacts."
I felt a wave of nausea.
"He was monitoring me."
"It appears so."
"How far back?"
"Your academy application."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
My father had mocked my ambition.
He had told me I would fail.
And all the while, he had been documenting every step of my career.
"Anything else?"
Sarah lowered her voice.
"There's correspondence suggesting someone tried to influence your early security reviews."
My blood ran cold.
"Who?"
"We're still verifying the sender."
I gripped the phone.
"Preserve everything. No conclusions until it's authenticated."
"Understood."
I ended the call.
Marcus watched me carefully.
"You're thinking about stepping back."
I didn't answer immediately.
He knew me too well.
My family ties to the suspects had always required strict oversight.
I was not the lead criminal investigator.
My authorized role concerned military security, protection of compromised personnel, and coordination with the independent federal team.
But every new revelation made my personal conflict harder to ignore.
"I should withdraw from direct questioning," I said.
Marcus nodded.
"I agree."
It hurt to say it.
I had spent years proving I could remain professional under pressure.
Now the most important case of my life involved the people who had shaped my childhood.
I handed Marcus my operational briefing folder.
"I'll continue only in the authorized coordination and security role. Sarah handles the interviews."
He took the folder.
"That's the right decision."
I hated how much I needed to hear it.
Before I could respond, Vanessa appeared in the doorway.
She was no longer wearing her wedding gown.
Instead, she had changed into a simple gray dress.
Her hair hung loose around her shoulders.
She looked exhausted.
"Emily?"
I turned.
"What's wrong?"
She held up her phone.
"Someone sent me this."
I approached.
The screen showed a photograph of Dad standing beside a dark vehicle.
Next to him was Claudia Price.
And between them stood an older man.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
Wearing a hospital gown beneath a heavy coat.
I recognized him immediately.
Thomas Reed.
The photograph had been taken that morning.
My pulse thundered.
"Who sent it?"
"Unknown number."
"Was there a message?"
Vanessa nodded.
Her hands trembled as she showed me.
YOUR FATHER ISN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO LIED.
I looked at Marcus.
He had already called Sarah.
Vanessa began crying.
"I don't understand any of this."
I put my arm around her.
For once, she didn't pull away.
"Neither do I."
She buried her face against my shoulder.
"I'm sorry about the wedding."
I looked down at her.
"Vanessa—"
"I was horrible to you."
She stepped back.
"I said those things because Dad told me you were trying to embarrass us."
My throat tightened.
"And you believed him."
She nodded.
"He said you'd always hated me."
I stared at her.
"He told you that?"
"Since we were kids."
I thought about every argument we'd had.
Every birthday dinner where Vanessa mocked my career.
Every family gathering where she accused me of thinking I was better than everyone.
Dad had spent years feeding us different versions of the same lie.
"Vanessa, I never hated you."
She started crying harder.
"I thought you did."
I took her hands.
"I was angry sometimes. I felt like Dad loved you more."
She looked shocked.
"He told me he loved you more because you were successful."
I froze.
"What?"
She nodded.
"He said I needed to behave better or I'd never be like you."
The cruelty of it nearly took my breath away.
Dad had told me Vanessa was the daughter he was proud of.
He had told Vanessa she would never measure up to me.
He had kept us fighting for his approval.
And we had never compared what he said.
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
"I don't know who I am without him telling me what to do."
I pulled her into my arms.
For the first time in years, she hugged me back.
A real hug.
Not a stiff greeting at Christmas.
Not a polite embrace for family photographs.
She held on like she was frightened I might disappear.
Then Sarah called again.
"We identified the location in Vanessa's photograph."
I straightened.
"Where?"
"An abandoned warehouse outside Petersburg."
"Do you have units nearby?"
"Already moving."
My heart pounded.
"Any indication Thomas is still there?"
"Not yet."
Marcus took the phone to coordinate security support.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Stay with Mom. Don't respond to any more messages."
She nodded.
Then she caught my hand.
"Emily?"
"Yes?"
"Please find him."
I stared at her.
"You know who Thomas is?"
Her expression changed.
"Dad told me something last year."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
She looked down.
"He said one day you'd find out you weren't really his daughter."
I felt a fresh wound open.
"Did he tell you who my biological father might be?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
My pulse quickened.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
Tears filled her eyes.
"Because he said if I did, Mom would go to prison."
I felt cold all over.
"What did he accuse her of?"
Vanessa whispered, "He said she helped kill a soldier."
I stared at my sister.
Then Marcus returned.
His expression was grim.
"General, the warehouse team found signs of a struggle."
I turned sharply.
"Thomas?"
"Not there."
"Any witnesses?"
"One."
I waited.
"A security guard who says an older man was taken away in a black ambulance."
My heart sank.
"Where was it headed?"
Marcus swallowed.
"Toward the Carter family's private estate."
Our childhood home.
May you like
The place where Richard Carter had controlled every part of our lives.
And the place where he might be hiding the final piece of the truth.
