Chapter 2 - The Missing Eight YearsI didn't sleep that night.
I sat alone in my apartment with Logan's photograph on the table.
Eight years.
For eight years I had told myself the same story.
Logan had disappeared.
His vehicle was found near Blackwater Bridge.
There were traces of blood inside.
No body was recovered.
The police investigation lasted eleven months.
Then it was closed.
Officially, Logan was presumed dead.
Unofficially, I knew he was dead because I had spent years carrying the guilt.
The last conversation we ever had had ended with an argument.
“You always think you're better than me,” Logan had said.
“And you always think someone else will clean up your mess.”
He had slammed the door.
That was the last time I saw him.
Or so I thought.
At 3:12 a.m., I heard a sound from my kitchen.
I grabbed my pistol.
The apartment was dark.
I moved slowly through the hallway.
Kitchen empty.
Window locked.
Nothing disturbed.
Then I saw the envelope.
It had been placed directly in the center of my table.
No stamp.
No address.
I opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
BLACKWATER WASN'T AN ACCIDENT.
Beneath it was another line.
YOU WERE THE LAST PERSON LOGAN SPOKE TO.
I froze.
That wasn't true.
At least I didn't think it was.
I called Marcus.
He answered on the second ring.
“You're awake.”
“How did you know?”
“I've been waiting.”
“For what?”
“A phone call.”
My skin prickled.
“Where are you?”
“Outside your building.”
I rushed downstairs.
Marcus stood beside his car.
He looked exhausted.
“What did you find?”
Instead of answering, he handed me a thin folder.
Inside was Logan's old case file.
Pages had been removed.
Dozens of them.
“What the hell is this?”
“The original file.”
“And where are the missing pages?”
Marcus looked at the street.
“Locked inside an evidence archive that doesn't officially exist.”
I stared at him.
“You broke into police evidence?”
“No.”
He smiled bitterly.
“Someone let me in.”
“Who?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
He opened the folder again.
A page near the back had been circled in red.
A code was printed across the top.
PROJECT HELIX.
“What is that?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Then find out.”
“I already did.”
He pulled out another photograph.
It showed Logan entering a building.
The date was seven years after his disappearance.
My fingers tightened around the picture.
“Where was this taken?”
“Washington.”
I looked at him.
“Logan was alive seven years after he disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“Why wasn't this reported?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Because the photograph didn't come from the police.”
“Then who took it?”
Marcus looked at me.
“Someone inside your department.”
A siren sounded in the distance.
Then Marcus's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed instantly.
“What?”
He listened.
“Repeat that.”
Silence.
Then he hung up.
“What happened?”
He looked at me.
“The boy.”
My heart stopped.
“What about Eli?”
“They found him.”
“Where?”
“At Blackwater Bridge.”
We raced there.
The police had sealed off the area.
An officer approached us.
“Detective Reed, you need to see this.”
Marcus moved toward the bridge.
I followed.
There was no Eli.
Only his backpack.
Placed neatly on the railing.
And beneath it...
A bloodstained police badge.
Mine.
My badge number had been scratched into the metal.
Marcus looked at me.
“Colin...”
I didn't answer.
Because carved into the bridge beside the badge were six words.
YOU LEFT LOGAN HERE ALONE.
But I knew something now.
I had never been at Blackwater Bridge that night.
May you like
Or at least...
I had no memory of being there.
