Chapter 6 - TEN MINUTESJames ran.
He didn't remember getting out of the building.
He only remembered the rain.
The headlights.
The empty road.
And the photograph on his phone.
When he arrived home, the front door was open.
His stomach dropped.
"Elliot!"
No answer.
"Connor!"
Silence.
The house looked untouched.
Too untouched.
James moved through the kitchen.
Two cups were on the table.
One still warm.
Then he saw Elliot's backpack.
On the floor.
The zipper had been ripped open.
James heard a sound upstairs.
He raised his voice.
"Who's there?"
Nothing.
Then Elliot came around the corner.
"Dad!"
James grabbed him.
"Where's Connor?"
"I don't know!"
"What happened?"
"Someone knocked."
"I told Connor to stay here."
"We did."
"Then?"
"Elliot's face tightened.
"The door opened."
"Who?"
"A woman."
"The woman from the rail yard?"
"I don't know."
"What did she do?"
"She asked for Connor."
Elliot looked terrified.
"Connor ran."
"Where?"
"Outside."
James cursed.
"Then I saw another man."
"What man?"
"The one in the blue jacket."
James froze.
"Charles?"
Elliot nodded.
"He grabbed the woman's arm."
"What happened next?"
"They fought."
James stared.
"And Connor?"
"Gone."
James ran toward the backyard.
A footprint led to the fence.
Then stopped.
On the ground was Connor's shoe.
The split one.
James picked it up.
A note had been tucked inside.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT.
James's phone rang.
Charles.
James answered.
"Where is Connor?"
Charles was breathing hard.
"I don't know."
"You were supposed to protect him."
"I tried."
"Then why is he gone?"
"Because the woman wasn't working for Hale."
James stopped.
"What?"
Charles said, "She's Elena's sister."
James went silent.
"She took Connor to save him."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Charles lowered his voice.
"But I know where they're going."
James listened.
"The old switching tower."
James looked at the clock.
9:41.
"What happens there?"
Charles whispered:
"They're going to recover the ledger."
James stared at the dark street.
"And if they don't?"
"They'll kill everyone who knows it exists."
"Who?"
Charles paused.
Then gave a name.
"Your father."
James frowned.
"My father is dead."
Charles's voice cracked.
"That's not who I meant."
James's blood ran cold.
Charles continued:
"The ledger contains evidence showing your father wasn't the architect of Northstar."
"Then who was?"
A long silence.
"Your father was trying to stop them."
"Who started it?"
Charles whispered the name.
Then the line went dead.
James stared at the phone.
The mastermind wasn't Victor Hale.
It was someone much closer.
Someone James had trusted.
Someone whose name appeared on nearly every page of his father's old business records.
Someone who had been in James's home that very night.
James looked at the photograph of Elena.
May you like
Under the picture, his father's handwriting suddenly made sense.
Trust no Mercer.
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