Chapter 4 - The Captain’s Name
Maya did not accuse Captain Lawson.
Not yet.
A bank transfer could be fabricated.
A photograph could be manipulated.
And Daniel Voss had already demonstrated an extraordinary ability to make people distrust one another.
Instead, Maya photographed everything.
Then she transported Noah to a secure federal facility.
Only after doctors confirmed he was stable did she return to the Fourth Precinct.
Lawson was waiting.
“Did you find him?”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief crossed Lawson’s face.
It looked genuine.
Maya watched carefully.
“Where's Mercer?”
“We're searching.”
“You said he stole your card.”
Lawson nodded.
Maya placed her phone on the desk.
Then displayed the bank transfer.
Lawson stared at it.
“What is this?”
“You tell me.”
His face changed.
Not guilt.
Recognition.
“That account belonged to my wife.”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
“She died three years ago.”
Maya said nothing.
Lawson sat down.
“She had cancer.”
His voice lowered.
“Treatment destroyed us financially. Someone anonymously paid the remaining medical bills.”
“You never investigated?”
“I tried. The bank wouldn't tell me.”
Maya studied him.
“Daniel Voss claims the money was payment.”
“For what?”
“That's what I'm trying to determine.”
Lawson stood.
“I've never met Daniel Voss.”
“Maybe.”
Lawson stared at her.
“You don't trust me.”
“I don't trust anyone Voss wants me to trust or distrust.”
For the first time that day, Lawson almost smiled.
“Smart.”
Then every computer monitor in the precinct went black.
A message appeared.
ONE HOUR.
Beneath it was an address.
Lawson whispered, “What the hell?”
Maya recognized the location.
Federal courthouse.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Voss.
“Agent Brooks.”
“Where's Mercer?”
“With me.”
“Is he alive?”
“For now.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Lawson shook his head.
Maya ignored him.
“Why?”
“Because you're the only person who might actually listen.”
“To what?”
“The classified network keys were never for sale.”
Maya went silent.
Voss continued.
“They unlock an archive.”
“What archive?”
“One your own people buried.”
Maya’s stomach tightened.
“Whose people?”
“The task force you work for.”
Then the line disconnected.
Maya stared at the phone.
Everything she believed about the case had just shifted again.
And this time, the threat wasn't coming from outside law enforcement.
May you like
It might be buried inside the FBI itself.
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