Chapter 11 - The Father Behind the Locked DoorWe had less than three hours.
Evelyn contacted her trusted state police colleague and sent him copies of the files. He agreed to seek emergency intervention, but he warned us that a warrant would not arrive in time to stop the transfer.
Mara knew the destination.
Julian Cross owned an isolated property about forty miles north of Bellweather, a sprawling estate with an old private clinic attached to it.
“If they're moving Camden there, they'll use the west service road,” she said. “It avoids the main highway.”
We drove into the forest as the sun disappeared behind the hills.
The estate's perimeter wall was taller than Bellweather's, but part of the western fence had collapsed beneath a fallen tree. Evelyn stayed with the car while Mara and I crossed the grounds.
Through the trees, we spotted a white medical van parked beside the clinic.
Two guards stood near the rear doors.
A stretcher waited beneath the entrance canopy.
My father lay on it.
Even from a distance, I recognized the shape of his face.
My father, who had taught me to ride a bicycle. My father, who used to sit beside my bed when nightmares woke me. My father, who had promised that the truth would eventually find its way home.
He was barely moving.
I started forward, but Mara caught my arm.
“Wait.”
Dr. Cross emerged from the building, carrying a folder. She spoke to the guards and gestured toward the van.
Then a familiar voice came from behind us.
“Step away from the patient.”
Detective Reed.
He was standing near the clinic entrance with one hand resting on his gun.
I could have run.
Instead, I stepped out from behind the trees.
“Let him go.”
Reed spun around.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he lowered his weapon slightly.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Neither should you.”
“I told you to stop looking.”
“And I told you I wouldn't.”
He glanced toward my father.
“Your father has been difficult to manage.”
The words hit me harder than any punch.
“You helped them keep him here.”
Reed's jaw tightened.
“I was paid to keep the investigation quiet. I never agreed to kill anyone.”
“Did you know they were drugging him?”
“I knew they were controlling his access to the outside world.”
“And you did nothing.”
He looked away.
That was all the answer I needed.
Behind him, Dr. Cross noticed us.
“Malcolm?” she called.
Reed raised his voice.
“Take the van inside. Now.”
The guards began moving the stretcher.
I ran.
Reed grabbed my shirt, but I twisted free and slammed into one of the guards. Mara struck the second guard with a metal flashlight, knocking his radio from his hand.
Everything happened at once.
Dr. Cross screamed for security. Someone pulled an alarm. Reed shouted my name.
I reached the stretcher just as the guards tried to push it through the clinic doors.
“Dad!”
His eyelids fluttered.
For one terrible second, I thought he couldn't hear me.
Then his hand moved.
His fingers closed weakly around mine.
“Finnley?” he whispered.
I fell to my knees beside him.
“I'm here, Dad. I'm here.”
His eyes opened a fraction.
He looked at my face, and a tear slipped down his temple.
“You came.”
“Of course I came.”
He tried to speak, but his breathing grew shallow. Mara called for a medical team while I held his hand.
Reed stood several feet away, his weapon lowered.
“Get him inside,” he ordered.
For the first time, the words sounded like a genuine instruction rather than a threat.
We brought Camden into the clinic and demanded that an independent physician examine him. Evelyn arrived moments later with two state police officers who had finally reached the property.
Dr. Cross attempted to leave through a rear corridor.
One of the officers stopped her.
She was arrested before she reached the gate.
Reed surrendered his weapon, but as an officer led him away, he leaned close to me.
“You think finding your father is the end?”
I stared at him.
“What else is there?”
He looked toward the upstairs windows.
“Ask him why Julian Cross wanted you convicted.”
Then Reed was gone.
I returned to my father's bedside.
Camden was awake, though barely. An independent doctor had confirmed that he was severely dehydrated and had been receiving medication that left him heavily sedated.
I squeezed his hand.
“Dad, I need you to tell me everything.”
His gaze drifted toward the doorway.
“Not here,” he whispered.
“Why?”
He gripped my wrist with surprising strength.
“Because Julian Cross isn't just the man who stole our company.”
May you like
He struggled to breathe.
“He's the man who helped your mother die.”
Related Stories
