Chapter 5 - The Judge's Husband
Judge Rebecca Hale didn't believe us.
Not at first.
She stared at Gerald's photograph for almost a minute.
"That's not possible."
Nobody interrupted.
"My husband died."
Brooks placed the recent surveillance image beside the old photograph.
Same eyes.
Same scar near the jaw.
Same man.
Judge Hale sat down.
"I buried him."
Thomas had apparently taught our family how useful funerals without bodies could be.
"He was working undercover," Hale whispered.
"That's what they told me."
"Who?"
"Federal investigators."
Brooks looked alarmed.
"What agency?"
Judge Hale named one.
Brooks immediately stepped outside to make a call.
She returned five minutes later.
"No record."
Hale understood.
Her grief transformed into something harder.
"My husband abandoned me."
"Maybe," I said.
She looked at me.
"But right now he has my parents."
"And wants me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Thomas says you can expose him."
Hale stood.
"Then let's expose him."
Gerald instructed us to meet at a second Carter Logistics property.
Judge Hale insisted on going.
Brooks hated it.
So did I.
But Gerald had built the trap around her.
Sometimes the only way through a trap was to understand what the person setting it believed you would do.
Gerald believed his wife still loved him.
He was right.
That was our advantage.
At 5:18 p.m., Judge Hale and I entered the property.
No visible weapons.
The drive was in my jacket.
A duplicate.
The real one stayed with Brooks.
Gerald waited inside.
Vance stood near my parents.
Mom's mascara had streaked down her face.
Dad had blood near his eyebrow.
Both were alive.
"Rebecca," Gerald said.
The judge stopped.
Twenty years of courtroom discipline disappeared.
"You bastard."
Gerald smiled sadly.
"I missed you too."
She slapped him.
Hard.
I almost respected her even more.
Gerald didn't retaliate.
He looked at me.
"The drive."
"Parents first."
"You don't negotiate."
"I just did."
He laughed.
"You really are Richard's daughter."
"No. I'm mine."
Dad heard that.
It hurt him.
Good.
Vance pressed a handgun against Dad's shoulder.
I remained still.
Gerald asked for the drive.
I showed it.
"Why me?"
"Because you found something overseas you were never supposed to find."
"317."
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"A ledger."
"For stolen military equipment?"
"Among other things."
"How many people died?"
His smile vanished.
That answered me.
Judge Hale looked sick.
"You did this?"
Gerald looked at her.
"I built something."
"You built a criminal network."
"I built power."
"You left me believing you were dead."
"To protect you."
"Don't insult me."
While they argued, I watched Vance.
His gun hand trembled.
He wasn't a killer.
Not naturally.
He was scared.
That made him dangerous.
I looked at Dad.
Then at Vance.
Dad understood.
For all our problems, Richard Carter knew his daughter.
He suddenly kicked backward.
Vance stumbled.
I moved.
Three seconds.
Wrist.
Elbow.
Weapon redirected.
Floor.
Gun secured.
Federal agents entered.
Gerald ran.
Judge Hale shouted his name.
He disappeared through a side door.
Brooks pursued.
I freed Mom and Dad.
Mom grabbed me.
I let her.
For two seconds.
Then Dad said, "Madison."
His voice was wrong.
"What?"
"I know where he's going."
"Where?"
"The first warehouse."
"We were there."
"Not all of it."
Of course.
There was always another room.
Dad explained that the underground archive had a second level accessible through an old freight tunnel.
Gerald's real records were there.
Proof connecting everyone.
Including politicians, contractors, executives, and military procurement officials.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
Dad looked ashamed.
"Because my name is in them."
Mom stared at him.
"Richard."
"I told you I kept shipping."
"How long?"
"Seven years."
My mother's face broke.
Seven years wasn't one mistake.
It was a business model.
Dad looked at me.
"I wanted out."
"When?"
"When Thomas disappeared."
"You mean when you helped convince us he was dead."
"I thought Gerald would kill him."
"So you protected him by destroying his identity?"
"I protected you."
Everybody in my family apparently committed crimes in the name of protecting someone else.
I was tired of the word.
Brooks returned.
Gerald escaped through a vehicle tunnel.
We headed back toward the original warehouse.
Judge Hale came.
Nothing could stop her now.
The hidden second level was behind a steel freight door.
Dad entered a six-digit code.
Nothing.
"Changed."
Judge Hale stepped closer.
She entered a number.
The door unlocked.
We stared at her.
She whispered, "Our anniversary."
The door slid open.
Darkness.
Then lights activated automatically.
A long underground corridor appeared.
At the end was another door.
A voice came through hidden speakers.
Gerald.
"Rebecca."
The judge froze.
"I knew you'd remember."
We moved forward.
"Gerald!" Hale shouted.
"Twenty years," he replied. "And you still know me."
"No. I never knew you."
We reached the second door.
It opened.
Inside was an empty office.
One desk.
One computer.
One chair.
On the computer screen was a live video feed.
Lily.
Again.
She was asleep in a bed.
Rachel screamed.
"That's not possible. She's with federal protection."
Brooks grabbed her phone.
No signal.
Gerald's voice returned.
"You keep looking at the wrong child."
The image zoomed out.
It wasn't Lily.
It was an old recording.
Timestamped twenty-three years earlier.
A little girl slept in the bed.
I recognized her.
Me.
Mom whispered, "Oh God."
The video changed.
A younger Gerald stood beside my childhood bed.
He placed something beneath the mattress.
A black drive.
Then another man entered.
Thomas.
They argued.
No audio.
Then Dad appeared.
Then Mom.
All four of them had been there.
All four had known.
I turned toward my parents.
"What happened that night?"
Mom couldn't speak.
Dad whispered, "That's the night Thomas took you."
My memory fractured.
A car.
Rain.
My uncle telling me not to be afraid.
I'd always been told it was a family trip.
Apparently not.
The screen changed again.
A scanned document appeared.
ADOPTION RECORD.
My name.
Madison Carter.
My parents' names.
Then a second document.
Original birth certificate.
My mother's name was the same.
My father's wasn't.
I stepped closer.
The biological father field became visible.
GERALD HALE.
May you like
Behind me, Judge Hale made a sound like she'd been struck.
And then the lights went out.
