Chapter 10 - The Hidden InkThe ledger contained a second ledger. And my father was now in the hands of the man who wanted it destroyed.
We hid inside an abandoned church outside town.
Thomas placed the Black Ledger beneath a heat lamp.
Slowly, faint marks appeared.
Names.
Account numbers.
Dates.
Coordinates.
And a phrase repeated across dozens of pages:
NORTHSTAR.
Thomas stared.
“That's the archive.”
“What archive?”
“The original records.”
“Where?”
He pointed to the coordinates.
A building outside the city.
A former Kane dealership.
Closed in 2007.
I looked at Derek.
“You know it?”
He nodded.
“My father called it the dead house.”
“Why?”
“Because nothing went in.”
“Nothing came out.”
Thomas looked at the pages.
“That isn't true.”
“What do you mean?”
“The archive has been active for seventeen years.”
“Who maintains it?”
Thomas pointed to one name.
VICTOR SHAW.
I looked at the final page.
There was another entry.
GRACE MERCER.
Next to it:
ASSET PROTECTION.
I felt sick.
“My mother worked for Victor?”
“No,” Thomas said.
“She worked against him.”
Then another name appeared.
My father.
ASSET PROTECTION.
Thomas explained.
My parents had spent years gathering evidence against the network.
They had never disappeared willingly.
They had been forced underground.
When my mother believed the danger had passed, she tried to reach me.
Richard found out.
She vanished again.
“You lied to me,” I said.
Thomas looked at me.
“Your mother believed the less you knew, the safer you were.”
“Was I safe?”
“No.”
That answer hurt more than the lie.
A vehicle stopped outside.
Everyone froze.
But instead of gunmen, a young woman entered.
It was Claire Donovan, a detective I'd never met.
She put her badge on the table.
“I've been investigating Kane Automotive for six years.”
Thomas raised his gun.
Claire lifted her hands.
“I know about the ledger.”
“How?”
“Because my father disappeared twelve years ago.”
She placed a file on the table.
Her father had worked for the state financial crimes unit.
He had investigated Richard.
Three days after requesting a warrant, he vanished.
Officially, he resigned.
Claire had never believed it.
Now she had proof.
She opened the file.
Inside was a photograph of Victor Shaw.
He was shaking hands with the same officials who later signed the reports declaring both my father and Edward Voss dead.
Claire looked at me.
“Victor owns people.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“What does he want with my father?”
She hesitated.
“Your father is the only surviving witness who knows how the original Northstar archive works.”
“So we get him.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Claire smiled.
“We let Victor think you already have what he wants.”
I understood.
A trap.
We built a fake copy of the ledger.
Then sent Victor a message.
THE REAL LEDGER IS AT NORTHSTAR.
Victor responded within two minutes.
WHERE'S EVAN?
Thomas looked at me.
“They're asking for you.”
“Then let's give them me.”
The plan was simple.
Too simple.
I would enter Northstar alone.
Thomas would monitor.
Claire would surround the building.
Derek would intercept Victor's transport.
But as I approached the old dealership, I received a message.
From my mother.
DON'T GO INSIDE.
I stopped.
Another message.
YOUR FATHER TOLD ME SOMETHING.
Then:
THOMAS IS LYING TO YOU.
My heart sank.
I looked back toward the surveillance van.
Thomas was watching me.
For the first time, I wondered how much of his story was true.
Then another message arrived.
THE REAL BLACKWELL PROJECT WASN'T RICHARD'S.
IT WAS THOMAS'S.
I stared at the words.
A dark figure appeared in the dealership window.
Then my phone buzzed again.
“Evan, don't trust anyone.”
The message was signed:
THOMAS.
I looked through the windshield.
Someone was standing behind me.
I turned.
Nobody.
Then the passenger door opened.
A gun pressed against my ribs.
May you like
A voice whispered:
“Welcome to Northstar.”
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