CHAPTER 7 The Man Behind the Curtain
The explosion hurled me backward.
Even though I was watching through the live tactical feed from the command vehicle, the blast shook the camera so violently that the image dissolved into static for several seconds.
Someone screamed.
Metal twisted.
Sprinklers burst overhead, sending freezing water cascading through the warehouse.
Then the picture returned.
Smoke.
Dust.
Emergency lights flashing red.
Bodies moving through the haze.
Rebecca Sloan's voice cut through the chaos.
"Status! Sound off!"
"Team One, good!"
"Team Two, one injured!"
"Medic!"
"Victor is down!"
"And the child?"
A pause that lasted forever.
Then...
"We've got the child!"
My legs nearly gave out.
Louisa was alive.
Safe... For Now
When the tactical camera found them, Rebecca was kneeling beside Louisa.
The zip ties had been cut away.
A silver emergency blanket was wrapped around her tiny shoulders.
She clung to Rebecca with one hand.
Her stuffed bunny with the other.
"Mommy..."
Rebecca stroked her hair gently.
"You're going to see your mommy very soon."
Louisa looked around the warehouse.
Confused.
"Where's the bad grandma?"
Lydia.
The question snapped everyone back to reality.
"Where is she?" Mason demanded.
An agent checked the handcuffs lying on the floor.
Empty.
Another searched behind the crates.
Nothing.
Lydia Carter had disappeared during the explosion.
The Dead Man's Pocket
Victor Salazar lay motionless near the loading dock.
The two gunshot wounds were fatal.
As the crime scene team searched his body, one agent called Rebecca over.
"You need to see this."
Inside Victor's jacket pocket was a leather notebook.
Its pages were filled with names.
Addresses.
Birth dates.
Passport numbers.
Hundreds of them.
Many had been crossed out in red ink.
Rebecca turned another page.
The next section listed payments.
Dates.
Dollar amounts.
Cities.
New York.
Chicago.
Dallas.
Phoenix.
Then...
Columbus.
Beside Columbus was a name that made every person standing nearby fall silent.
Judge Arthur Bennett.
Detective Mason frowned.
"The federal judge?"
Rebecca nodded slowly.
"The same one."
"He presided over at least four missing-person cases."
Another page.
Another name.
State Senator Michael Rowe.
Then another.
Captain Harold Simmons. Columbus Police Department.
Mason's face went pale.
"My captain..."
Rebecca closed the notebook.
"This isn't a trafficking ring anymore."
She looked around the warehouse.
"It's an organization."
Elmer's Secret
Outside, paramedics treated Elmer's shoulder.
A piece of shrapnel had sliced through his jacket during the explosion.
I arrived twenty minutes later under FBI escort.
The moment Louisa saw me, she ran.
"Mommy!"
I dropped to my knees and wrapped both arms around her.
She buried her face against my neck, sobbing.
For nearly a full minute, neither of us said a word.
Nothing else mattered.
She was here.
She was breathing.
She was safe.
When I finally looked up, Elmer was standing several feet away.
His eyes were filled with guilt.
"I almost lost her."
"You did."
He lowered his head.
"I know."
I stood.
"We need to talk."
He nodded.
"I know."
Rebecca led us into a temporary interview trailer.
No cameras.
No reporters.
Just the four of us.
She placed the leather notebook on the table.
"Before we continue..."
She looked directly at Elmer.
"I need complete honesty."
He swallowed.
"You'll have it."
Rebecca slid over a photograph.
Storage Unit 417.
"Did you know this place existed?"
"No."
She placed another photo beside it.
Victor.
"Have you ever met this man?"
Elmer hesitated.
Then...
"Yes."
The room fell silent.
I stared at him.
"You told me you didn't know him."
"I lied."
My heart sank.
"When?"
"I was twelve."
"What?"
He rubbed both hands over his face.
"My father introduced him as Uncle Victor."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Tell us everything."
The Summer Cabin
"It happened every summer," Elmer began.
"Dad would send me to a cabin near Lake Erie."
"He said it was a fishing trip."
"But we never fished."
Instead...
Children came.
Different children every year.
Some younger than me.
Some older.
"They always cried."
"They always wanted to go home."
I felt sick.
"What happened to them?"
"I don't know."
Victor would arrive late at night.
Talk to Walter.
The next morning...
The children were gone.
Elmer's voice shook.
"I asked where they went once."
"Dad told me..."
He stopped.
Rebecca waited.
"What did he say?"
"'They've been given a better life.'"
No one spoke.
The silence itself felt unbearable.
The Photograph
Rebecca opened Victor's notebook again.
Tucked between two pages was an old Polaroid.
Faded.
Yellowed with age.
Five people stood outside a lakeside cabin.
Walter.
Victor.
A little boy.
A little girl.
And...
Elmer.
He looked about twelve years old.
Standing beside the little girl with a fishing rod.
The girl's smile was enormous.
Rebecca turned the photo over.
On the back was a handwritten note.
"Emily - Summer 2001."
I stared at it.
My pulse stopped.
"What?"
My voice barely came out.
"That's impossible."
Rebecca looked at me.
"Why?"
I swallowed hard.
"Because..."
"I was at a summer camp near Lake Erie in 2001."
No one moved.
I took the photograph into trembling hands.
The little girl.
The baseball cap.
The missing front tooth.
The blue jacket.
My breathing became ragged.
"That's me."
The room went completely silent.
Elmer looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
"I remember her..."
he whispered.
"You do?"
He nodded slowly.
"There was a girl."
"She cried every night."
"She kept saying she wanted her parents."
I couldn't breathe.
"My parents picked me up after one week."
Elmer closed his eyes.
"No."
"What?"
"They didn't."
Every hair on my body stood up.
He looked at me with tears in his eyes.
"I watched Victor drive you away."
"You never left with your parents."
The trailer seemed to spin around me.
"No..."
"You were taken."
"What are you saying?"
Elmer's voice cracked.
"I think..."
"You were one of the children."
The Final Twist
Rebecca immediately ordered agents to verify every detail.
Within minutes, an FBI analyst rushed into the trailer carrying an old archive file.
"Agent Sloan!"
She opened the folder.
Inside was a newspaper clipping dated July 18, 2001.
LOCAL GIRL MISSING FOR 36 HOURS, FOUND SAFE.
The photograph beside the headline showed me.
Seven years old.
Smiling.
Standing between my mother and father.
Rebecca's eyes narrowed.
"Found safe..."
She flipped to the final page.
There was a handwritten note attached by an investigator years ago.
Parents refused formal interview. Child unable to remember events during disappearance. Case closed.
Rebecca looked at me.
Then at Elmer.
Then back to the file.
Very quietly, she said,
"I don't think this case was ever solved."
Before anyone could respond, her phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Then slowly lowered it.
Her face had gone completely white.
"What's wrong?" Mason asked.
Rebecca whispered only six words.
"They just found Walter's body."
A pause.
"But..."
May you like
She looked around the room.
"...his fingerprints don't match."
