Chapter 11 - The Man I Trusted
I wanted to believe the photograph was fake.
I wanted Robert to be innocent.
But the image was clear.
His face was beside Elias.
His hand rested on the back of Grandpa's chair.
I called him.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Mason found me in the farmhouse.
“What happened?”
I showed him.
He stared at the photograph.
“That's impossible.”
“Is it?”
“Robert was injured.”
“Then someone photographed him before the accident.”
Mason looked at the timestamp.
“Three hours ago.”
We both went silent.
Robert had never been in that photograph.
The photograph had been taken after he was found.
So either the image was fake.
Or the person standing beside Elias wasn't Robert.
Mason zoomed in.
“Look.”
The man's scar.
Robert had a scar on his left cheek from a tractor accident when he was twelve.
The man in the photograph did not.
My relief lasted two seconds.
Then Mason noticed something else.
“The jacket.”
Robert's jacket had a brass ranch emblem.
The man's jacket did too.
Someone had deliberately dressed him like Robert.
They wanted me to believe my uncle was involved.
The question was why.
To turn me against him.
To isolate me.
We drove to the western pasture.
The land stretched for hundreds of acres.
Nothing moved except tall grass.
At the center stood an old water tower.
There was a note attached.
KNOCK THREE TIMES.
I looked at Mason.
“Not a chance.”
He stepped back.
“We're not here to negotiate.”
I knocked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The water tower door opened.
Inside was a ladder descending underground.
We went down.
At the bottom was a room filled with surveillance equipment.
Screens.
Cameras.
Audio recorders.
Maps.
One screen showed my farmhouse.
Another showed the hospital.
A third showed Mason's house.
“They've been watching everyone.”
Then a voice came through the speakers.
“Hello, Hannah.”
Elias.
“Where is my grandfather?”
“Alive.”
“Let me speak to him.”
“You will.”
A screen turned on.
Grandpa appeared.
His face was bruised.
“Hannah,” he whispered.
“I'm here.”
“Don't trust anyone.”
Elias laughed.
“Especially family.”
Grandpa looked terrified.
“Find the river gate.”
“What gate?”
“The old floodgate.”
Elias cut the feed.
The room went dark.
Then every screen turned on at once.
Each showed a different photograph of my life.
School.
Birthdays.
Graduation.
My first job.
My apartment.
He had watched me for years.
Elias's voice returned.
“Your grandfather thought keeping you ignorant would save you.”
“He was wrong.”
“He was right about one thing.”
The screen changed.
It showed a map beneath the farm.
A massive network of tunnels.
“Your family doesn't own nine hundred acres.”
Elias paused.
“They own the key to what lies below.”
“What lies below?”
“A sealed waste vault.”
My stomach dropped.
“How dangerous?”
“Dangerous enough that Redwood would pay ten million dollars to keep it sealed.”
“You're lying.”
“Ask your grandfather.”
The speaker clicked.
A second voice came through.
Grandpa.
“It's not waste.”
Silence.
He continued.
“It's evidence.”
The recording ended.
Mason looked at me.
“What kind of evidence?”
I thought about the ledger.
The contracts.
The missing people.
Then the lights suddenly turned red.
A siren began screaming.
Someone shouted through the tunnel.
“Run!”
We turned.
A door opened at the far end.
Several armed men entered.
Mason pulled his gun.
“Get behind me!”
We ran.
The tunnel filled with smoke.
A bullet struck the wall beside my head.
We reached a steel gate.
Locked.
Mason tried the control.
Nothing.
Then I saw three buttons.
One.
Two.
Three.
I pressed them.
The gate opened.
Behind it was a massive concrete chamber.
And in the center stood my grandfather.
May you like
Alive.
Waiting for me.
