Chapter 4 - WHAT MY FATHER NEVER TOLD MERyan placed his phone on the table.
A recording began.
Static.
Then my father's voice.
Older.
Tired.
“She's asking questions again.”
Ryan's voice followed.
“I'll handle her.”
The recording ended.
I stared at him.
“What is that?”
“A conversation from eight years ago.”
My mother stood.
“Ryan, stop.”
He ignored her.
“You think Dad hid things from you because he was protecting you.”
He laughed once.
“He wasn't.”
Dad's face had gone gray.
“He was protecting this family.”
Ryan turned toward him.
“You were protecting the company.”
Dad closed his eyes.
I looked at the colonel.
“Is this what you came here for?”
Hale's answer was immediate.
“Partly.”
Ryan pointed at me.
“She doesn't know what she did.”
My voice became colder.
“What did I do?”
“You testified.”
“About what?”
“Redstone.”
Silence.
I remembered being interviewed after the convoy.
Fluorescent lights.
A paper cup.
Someone asking me whether I recognized a vehicle.
I had.
A white utility truck.
No markings.
I had reported it.
Then the investigator told me my memory might be unreliable because of blood loss.
I had stopped pushing.
Ryan leaned forward.
“You told investigators you saw a white truck near the convoy.”
“Yes.”
“And the truck had our company's old logo.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He smiled.
“You don't remember.”
“That isn't what I said.”
“You were injured.”
“I was.”
“You had a head injury.”
“Yes.”
“So how can you be sure?”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Because she is.”
Ryan turned.
“You weren't there.”
“No.”
Daniel's voice hardened.
“But Caleb was.”
Everyone stopped.
I looked at him.
“What did he tell you?”
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
Then:
“He told me the truck wasn't the important part.”
“What was?”
“The driver.”
Hale opened another folder.
A sketch.
A man's face.
Older.
Short beard.
Thin scar through one eyebrow.
My heart stopped.
I knew him.
Not from Afghanistan.
From somewhere else.
My father's office.
I had seen him standing beside Dad years ago.
“Who is that?” my mother whispered.
Dad stood slowly.
“Richard Vane.”
Ryan looked at him.
“You know him?”
Dad didn't respond.
That was enough.
Hale continued.
“Richard Vane owned Redstone Logistics through a series of shell companies.”
Daniel added, “And after the convoy attack, he disappeared.”
“And now?” I asked.
Hale looked at Ryan.
“Now he owns thirty percent of the company your brother runs.”
I stared at Ryan.
“No.”
Ryan immediately said:
“That's not true.”
Hale slid a corporate filing across the table.
Ryan's signature was on it.
So was Vane's.
My mother covered her mouth.
Dad sank into his chair.
Ryan snatched the paper.
“This doesn't prove anything.”
I noticed something.
His hands were shaking.
Not much.
Just enough.
I had seen that kind of tremor before.
In soldiers trying not to show fear.
“Ryan,” I said.
He looked up.
“Where is Richard Vane?”
“I don't know.”
The answer came too quickly.
Hale nodded.
“That is exactly what he said.”
Ryan froze.
Daniel looked toward the window.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
Someone sat inside.
Watching the house.
Daniel's hand moved toward his phone.
I followed his gaze.
“Who is that?”
He shook his head.
“Don't know.”
The SUV started moving.
Slowly.
Then disappeared around the corner.
Hale looked at me.
“Major Cooper.”
His voice was suddenly serious.
“You need to understand something.”
I turned toward him.
“The person we're looking for may not be afraid of your testimony.”
May you like
He paused.
“They may be afraid that you remember something else.”
Related Stories
