Chapter 4 - What My Father Knew
Dad stared at Vanessa.
“You're mistaken.”
“No.”
She stood.
“I remember because Mom hated that jacket.”
Mom had returned halfway down the stairs.
She stopped.
“What jacket?”
Vanessa pointed at my phone.
“The one Dad bought in Denver.”
Mom looked.
Her face changed.
“Richard?”
Dad shook his head.
“Hundreds of jackets look like that.”
I enlarged the image.
The man beside Daniel was approximately Dad's height.
Similar build.
Gray hair.
But there was no clear face.
I looked at him.
“Did Daniel come here?”
Dad said nothing.
“Dad.”
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than I expected.
“When?”
“Two weeks before his accident.”
“You told me you hadn't seen him since July.”
“I didn't want to upset you.”
“Why would seeing my husband upset me?”
Dad looked at Grant.
Then Hayes.
“This family doesn't need military officers standing around while we discuss private matters.”
Hayes replied calmly.
“Then perhaps you should answer your daughter's question.”
Dad bristled.
I raised my hand slightly.
Hayes stopped.
This was mine.
“Why was Daniel here?”
Dad walked into the dining room and poured himself water.
Nobody followed for several seconds.
Then I did.
“He asked questions about my old company.”
Dad had spent thirty years in industrial transportation.
He retired when I was twenty-seven.
“What questions?”
“Shipping records.”
My pulse increased.
“What shipping records?”
“Military freight.”
I stared.
“You handled military contracts?”
“Years ago.”
Hayes stepped into the doorway.
“Company name?”
“Atlantic Meridian Logistics.”
Hayes immediately took out his phone.
Dad noticed.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn't do anything.”
“Then you shouldn't be afraid of the question.”
Dad looked at me.
“You think I killed Daniel?”
“I think you're hiding something.”
His face softened for the first time.
“I loved Daniel.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
He sat.
The angry patriarch from an hour earlier suddenly looked old.
“Atlantic Meridian had a subcontractor.”
“Whitmore?”
“No.”
Grant leaned forward.
“Lawson Procurement.”
Hayes and I exchanged a look.
Peter Lawson.
Dad nodded.
“They handled specialized shipments.”
“How long ago?”
“Fifteen years.”
Grant swore quietly.
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Lawson told me he'd only entered defense contracting eight years ago.”
Dad laughed without humor.
“He's been around much longer.”
I opened Daniel's notebook.
PL.
Not simply Peter Lawson.
A connection going back fifteen years.
“Why did Daniel come here?”
“He had found my name on archived manifests.”
“And?”
“He asked whether Lawson ever manipulated shipment numbers.”
“What did you tell him?”
Dad looked down.
“The truth.”
“What truth?”
“That I suspected it.”
“Suspected?”
“One shipment disappeared.”
Hayes asked, “What was in it?”
“Encrypted communications hardware.”
“When?”
Dad gave him the year.
Hayes's expression became severe.
“That investigation was closed.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Equipment was supposedly recovered after a clerical error.”
“Was it?”
Dad shook his head.
“I don't think so.”
My father had been sitting on this for fifteen years.
“Why didn't you report it?”
“I had two daughters.”
My voice hardened.
“Don't use us.”
His eyes flashed.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
“I received photographs.”
The room fell silent.
“What photographs?”
“You. Vanessa. Your mother.”
Mom sat down abruptly.
“Richard?”
He looked at her.
“You never knew.”
She stared at him.
Dad continued.
“Someone photographed the girls leaving school. Elaine at the grocery store. Our house.”
My anger shifted.
Not vanished.
Shifted.
“They threatened you.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I never knew.”
Grant said, “Lawson?”
“I assumed.”
Hayes asked, “Do you still have the photographs?”
Dad hesitated.
That was answer enough.
“Where?”
He stood.
“Basement.”
We followed him.
Behind old Christmas decorations was a locked metal cabinet.
Dad opened it.
Inside were folders.
Old records.
Photographs.
Letters.
And one envelope marked DANIEL.
My throat tightened.
Dad handed it to me.
“He gave me this.”
“When?”
“The night he came.”
“Why didn't you give it to me?”
“He told me not to unless something happened.”
“Something happened.”
“I know.”
“Three days ago we buried him.”
Dad looked ashamed.
“I was scared.”
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a flash drive.
One handwritten note.
Emily will know what to do.
I almost broke.
Even in danger, Daniel trusted me.
Not my rank.
Me.
We returned upstairs.
Hayes secured a laptop disconnected from the network.
I inserted the drive.
There were dozens of files.
Manifests.
Invoices.
Emails.
Photographs.
Then a video.
Daniel appeared on screen.
He looked tired.
“Em, if you're watching this, I'm sorry.”
I covered my mouth.
“I wanted to finish this before you ever knew it existed. Especially with the baby coming.”
His eyes looked directly into the camera.
“Lawson isn't working alone.”
Hayes leaned closer.
Daniel continued.
“The person authorizing the diversions has access above contractor level.”
A document appeared.
One signature had been highlighted.
Hayes froze.
I saw the name.
Brigadier General Thomas Vance.
My stomach dropped.
Vance had attended Daniel's funeral.
He had hugged Noah.
He had looked me in the eyes and told me Daniel's service would never be forgotten.
Daniel's recording continued.
“If anything happens to me, don't confront Vance. Take everything to Hayes and CID.”
Then the screen went black.
My phone vibrated.
Colonel Hayes looked down at his own phone simultaneously.
His expression sharpened.
“What?”
He showed me the message.
SECURITY ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLE APPROACHING MERCER RESIDENCE.
Outside, headlights swept across the windows.
But these weren't part of Hayes's convoy.
A black SUV stopped at the curb.
The driver's door opened.
Hayes moved toward the window.
May you like
Then he whispered the name Daniel had warned me never to confront alone.
“General Vance.”
