Chapter 7 - The Ghost Who Owned the Sheriff
"You're supposed to be dead."
Adrian Voss laughed.
"That's what made retirement so pleasant."
I stepped away from the firefighters.
Bennett followed.
I held up one finger, asking for silence.
Voss continued.
"I understand you've had an unpleasant lunch."
I looked across the property.
Cole stood near the fire engine.
"Did you order the sheriff to humiliate me?"
"No. Travis enjoys that sort of thing. I simply told him you were dangerous when embarrassed."
"He was disappointed."
"I'm beginning to think he misunderstood your temperament."
"You always did hire poorly."
Voss chuckled.
"Still sharp."
I looked at Bennett.
She took out her phone and began making notes.
"Where are you?" I asked.
"Somewhere comfortable."
"Come say hello."
"I'd rather not repeat our last encounter."
Neither would I.
Eight years earlier, near the end of an overseas assignment, my team had been sent to locate missing medical shipments.
The paperwork said those shipments were destined for rural clinics.
The truth was uglier.
The containers held surveillance equipment, restricted technology, and weapons components routed through shell companies.
My team hadn't been sent to recover missing cargo.
We'd been sent into a trap.
Four men died.
Voss vanished.
And a report later claimed the operation had been compromised by a communication failure.
I knew that report was false.
I also knew my testimony hadn't been enough to prove who ordered the ambush.
"Why Montana?" I asked.
"Because nobody looks for international criminals in a place where the biggest scandal is usually a stolen horse."
"You picked my town."
"I picked the town before you arrived."
That stopped me.
"What?"
"Blackstone has been useful for years. You moving there complicated things."
My eyes traveled toward the blackened garage.
The property.
The old lift.
The tunnel.
"You knew I bought that building."
"Of course."
"Why let me?"
"Because someone on your side insisted it would keep you close to the truth."
I felt my pulse quicken.
"Who?"
Voss ignored the question.
"Did you enjoy being a mechanic?"
"More than listening to you."
"Such a waste. A commander reduced to changing tires."
"Better than selling out my country."
Silence.
When Voss spoke again, the warmth had disappeared.
"Be careful, Ethan. You're not the only one with a country to lose."
The line went dead.
Bennett looked at me.
"Was that Voss?"
"Yes."
"Alive?"
"Very."
She immediately contacted her team.
I watched Cole receive another call.
He listened.
Then looked straight at me.
For the first time, I saw real fear in his eyes.
Not fear of losing his badge.
Fear of whoever had called.
I approached Bennett.
"Voss is coordinating this."
"We need the call authenticated."
"Then authenticate it."
"We will."
Cole began walking toward his vehicle.
I pointed.
"He's leaving."
Bennett turned.
"Sheriff Cole!"
He stopped.
She approached with two agents who'd arrived during the rescue.
"We'd like you to accompany us for an interview."
Cole smiled.
"Am I under arrest?"
"No."
"Then I'll schedule something through my attorney."
Bennett held up a phone.
"You're aware we've issued preservation requests relating to the murder investigation?"
"I'll comply."
"And the federal investigative team is seeking judicial authorization for records relevant to the operation beneath this property?"
His smile faded.
"Sounds like you folks have been busy."
"We have."
Cole leaned closer.
"Lady, you have no idea what you're stepping into."
Bennett didn't move.
"Then enlighten me."
He smiled again.
"Talk to my lawyer."
He climbed into his SUV.
I watched him leave.
Keller appeared beside us.
"We have a problem."
Bennett looked at him.
"What?"
"County records show the emergency shelter was purchased fourteen years ago."
"By whom?"
Keller checked his tablet.
"A holding company called North Basin Development."
"Registered owner?"
"Another LLC."
"Keep going."
"Six layers. One registered in Nevada, one in Delaware, two outside the United States."
I knew where this was heading.
"Argent Meridian?"
Keller shook his head.
"No."
He turned the screen toward me.
"The ultimate domestic ownership trail ends with the Hayes Family Trust."
For a moment, I didn't understand.
"That's impossible."
Bennett looked at me.
"Do you have a family trust?"
"No."
Keller scrolled.
"It was established thirty months ago."
My stomach tightened.
Thirty months.
Rachel and I had been married for almost four years.
She handled most of our household bookkeeping.
She knew my Social Security number.
My financial history.
My old addresses.
Everything required to impersonate me on an application.
"Who's the trustee?" Bennett asked.
Keller hesitated.
Then he looked at me.
"Rachel Hayes."
I stood very still.
Bennett said nothing.
I stared at the screen.
A signature appeared beneath the trust documents.
My signature.
Except I had never signed them.
Someone had stolen my identity.
And used my wife to build a financial structure connected to a criminal operation.
I felt anger rise.
Then something worse.
Understanding.
Voss wasn't simply trying to kill me.
He was trying to make me responsible for everything he'd done.
Bennett's phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Her expression tightened.
"When?"
Another pause.
"Secure the hospital."
She ended the call.
I already knew something was wrong.
"What happened?"
"Caleb Warren regained consciousness."
I waited.
"He asked for Rachel."
"Where is she?"
Bennett looked at Keller.
"That's the problem."
My pulse accelerated.
"Agent."
"Rachel was being transferred to a secure interview location."
"And?"
"Her transport vehicle was intercepted."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Bennett continued.
"Agent Keller's colleague was injured. Rachel is missing."
I looked at Keller.
"Who took her?"
He shook his head.
"We're working on identification."
My phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared.
Rachel sat in a chair inside a dim concrete room.
Her wrists were bound.
A man's hand rested on her shoulder.
Below the photograph was a message.
YOU WANTED THE TRUTH. NOW COME PAY FOR IT.
Then a second message appeared.
BRING THE ORIGINAL DRIVE, ETHAN. YOU KNOW WHICH ONE.
And suddenly I understood why Adrian Voss had never stopped hunting me.
May you like
Because eight years earlier, I had taken something he could never replace.
Something I'd hidden so well that even I had tried to forget it.
