Chapter 11 - THE GHOST AT THE GATEMy father denied seeing Martin.
He denied everything.
But the photograph was real.
Taken less than forty-eight hours earlier.
That meant someone had been watching our family before I arrived.
Hale ordered everyone to stay inside.
Daniel stood guard near the front windows.
I sat beside my father.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“Tell me the truth.”
He remained silent.
“I can't protect you from something you won't admit.”
He finally spoke.
“Martin contacted me six months ago.”
I felt my heart drop.
“Why?”
“He said someone was killing people connected to Redstone.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You met him?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“An abandoned warehouse.”
“What did he want?”
“Money.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone wants money.”
Dad shook his head.
“He wanted his life back.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“Of what?”
“The truth.”
He took a breath.
“Martin was the one who introduced me to Vane.”
I looked toward the window.
“How did you know he was alive?”
“I didn't.”
“Until six months ago.”
“Yes.”
“Why did he contact you?”
Dad closed his eyes.
“He said Audrey had been targeted because of something she saw in that convoy.”
“What?”
“He never told me.”
I stood.
“You knew enough to call me home for your birthday.”
He opened his eyes.
“I didn't call you home for the birthday.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Ryan did.”
I turned.
Ryan was standing in the hallway.
He looked terrified.
“I needed her here.”
“Why?”
Ryan looked at Dad.
Then at me.
“Because I knew someone was coming.”
I stared at him.
“When did you know?”
“Two months ago.”
“You knew people were after me?”
“Yes.”
“And you still mocked me in front of everyone.”
Ryan's voice cracked.
“I wanted you angry.”
“Why?”
“So you'd leave.”
“Leave where?”
“Anywhere.”
I stepped toward him.
“You could have told me.”
“I couldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because Vane was listening.”
I stopped.
“How?”
Ryan pointed toward the ceiling.
A tiny red light blinked.
I looked up.
A smoke detector.
Daniel immediately ripped it down.
Inside was a miniature microphone.
Everyone stared.
Ryan whispered:
“He's been inside this house.”
Hale took the device.
“Not recently.”
“How do you know?”
“It's been here for years.”
My blood ran cold.
Years.
Not days.
Not weeks.
Years.
Someone had been listening to us.
My father looked at me.
“I think Martin planted it.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to know what we knew.”
Daniel's phone buzzed.
A message.
He looked at me.
“I think you should see this.”
A location.
And a name.
Caleb Morris.
I looked at Hale.
“Where?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Your old military storage facility.”
I frowned.
“I don't have one.”
Ryan looked at me.
“You do.”
I turned.
He pointed toward my father's garage.
“Dad kept your deployment belongings.”
We opened the old wooden cabinet.
Inside were boxes.
My medals.
Old uniforms.
Letters.
And beneath them, another green case.
May you like
Numbered:
18.
