Chapter 2 - The Message From Inside The Lodge
The message was still glowing on the phone screen.
"She knows everything."
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
For several seconds, the only sound inside the dark lodge was the low hum of the backup generator struggling to start.
I watched Dominic Hale carefully.
A man like him was trained to hide fear.
That was what made the change on his face so important.
He was afraid.
Not of me.
Not of the darkness.
Of whoever had sent that message.
Dominic slowly lowered the phone.
"Everyone stays where they are."
His voice was quiet, but nobody questioned him.
The men around the room immediately became alert.
The same men who had laughed at me minutes earlier were now checking windows, doors, and corners.
The entire atmosphere had changed.
I had walked into that lodge as an outsider.
Now I was standing in the middle of something much bigger than I expected.
Dominic looked at me.
"You knew this could happen."
It was not a question.
It was an accusation.
I shook my head.
"No."
"Then why aren't you surprised?"
I looked at the phone in his hand.
"Because whoever sent that message wanted us to panic."
Dominic stared at me.
"And you think this is a game?"
"No."
I paused.
"I think it's a warning."
A few men exchanged uncomfortable looks.
Dominic noticed.
"What warning?"
I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small photograph.
It was old.
The edges were damaged.
The image showed a man standing outside a warehouse.
The same man whose disappearance had brought me to Montana.
Dominic's missing accountant.
I placed the photo on the table.
"This was taken two days after he supposedly disappeared."
Dominic looked at it.
His expression hardened.
"Impossible."
"Why?"
"Because that warehouse burned down three months ago."
I nodded.
"Exactly."
The room became silent again.
Dominic picked up the photograph.
His eyes moved over every detail.
The building.
The date written on the corner.
The person standing in the background.
Then his hand stopped.
Because he recognized someone.
"You know him."
Dominic did not answer.
That told me enough.
The person standing behind the missing accountant was someone Dominic knew.
Someone close.
One of his men stepped forward.
"Boss?"
Dominic immediately folded the photo and placed it in his pocket.
"Everyone leaves."
The men looked confused.
"Now."
They did not argue.
One by one, they moved toward the exits.
But before they reached the door, Dominic spoke again.
"Nobody talks about what happened here."
The men nodded.
The lodge slowly emptied.
Until only three people remained.
Me.
Dominic.
And the question neither of us wanted to say out loud.
Who inside his organization was betraying him?
The lights finally came back.
But somehow, the room felt darker than before.
Dominic walked toward the large window overlooking the mountain.
"You need to tell me everything you know."
I crossed my arms.
"I will."
He turned around.
"That sounded like a condition."
"It is."
His eyes narrowed.
"What do you want?"
"The truth."
A small smile appeared on his face.
Not because he found it funny.
Because he was used to people wanting money.
Power.
Protection.
Not answers.
"You came to investigate me."
"I came because someone believed you were about to lose everything."
"And you believe them?"
"No."
I looked at the photograph in his hand.
"I believe whoever sent me here knew something you didn't."
Dominic was quiet.
Then he walked toward a locked cabinet near the fireplace.
He entered a code.
The cabinet opened.
Inside were documents.
Old files.
Personal records.
Evidence.
He pulled out one folder and placed it on the table.
"This is everything about my accountant."
I opened it.
The name was printed across the top.
Ethan Cross.
Age thirty-four.
Financial advisor.
Trusted employee.
Missing.
The official story was simple.
Ethan had stolen money.
He had run away.
The case was closed.
But the details inside the folder told a different story.
There were missing pages.
Deleted records.
Reports that had been changed.
Someone had carefully removed pieces of the truth.
"Who investigated this?"
Dominic looked away.
"People I trusted."
I looked up.
"And now?"
His silence answered.
I turned another page.
Then I noticed something.
A small handwritten note at the bottom of an old report.
Four words.
Not part of the official document.
Written by someone who had tried to hide it.
"Look beneath the ridge."
I looked at Dominic.
"Have you seen this before?"
"No."
That answer came too quickly.
I watched him.
"You knew there was something hidden here."
"I knew Ethan was investigating something."
"What?"
Dominic looked toward the window.
"The reason I hired you."
For the first time, he sounded tired.
Not powerful.
Not dangerous.
Just tired.
"Ethan worked for me for six years. He handled my finances. He knew every weakness I had."
"Your criminal weaknesses?"
His eyes met mine.
"Everyone has weaknesses."
I did not respond.
He continued.
"Two weeks before he disappeared, he told me someone inside my organization was moving money without my permission."
"Did he tell you who?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because he said if he was right, telling me would get him killed."
The words stayed between us.
A man who trusted nobody had trusted a missing accountant.
And now that accountant might have left behind a trail leading directly to the person closest to Dominic.
I closed the folder.
"Why didn't you tell me this when I arrived?"
"Because I needed to know if you were part of it."
I raised an eyebrow.
"And now?"
"Now I know you're either the biggest threat in this room..."
He paused.
"...or the only person who can help me."
Before I could answer, a sound came from upstairs.
A floorboard.
A slow step.
Both of us froze.
Dominic reached inside his jacket.
I did the same.
The sound came again.
Someone was walking.
Not running.
Not hiding.
Walking like they wanted us to know they were there.
Dominic whispered:
"Nobody is supposed to be upstairs."
I looked toward the staircase.
"Then who is?"
Neither of us moved.
The footsteps stopped.
Then something slid across the wooden floor from the upper hallway.
A small envelope fell down the stairs.
It landed at Dominic's feet.
Neither of us touched it.
Because written on the front was a name.
Mine.
I stared at the envelope.
My name was written in handwriting I recognized.
A handwriting I had not seen in five years.
My breathing changed.
Dominic noticed.
"You know who wrote that."
I did not answer.
Because I did.
The person who wrote my name on that envelope was someone who was supposed to be gone forever.
Slowly, Dominic reached down.
But before his fingers touched the paper, the upstairs lights turned on.
And a voice came from the darkness above.
"Don't open it."
Dominic looked up.
I looked up.
Because I knew that voice.
The voice of the person who had hired me.
May you like
The person who disappeared before I could ask why.
The person who was supposed to be dead.
