Chapter 4 - THE MAN IN THE DITCH
The ambulance never stopped.
Federal agents behind us handled the crash.
Twenty minutes later, Ruiz called again.
“The driver is dead.”
“And the passenger?”
“Alive.”
“Identity?”
She paused.
“Deputy Michael Trent.”
I remembered him.
Not from the estate.
From Lily’s wedding.
He had stood beside Chief Nolan during the reception.
Smiling.
Drinking bourbon.
Telling everyone how lucky Richard was.
“He’s one of Nolan’s men.”
“Yes.”
“Did he talk?”
“Not yet.”
“He will.”
Ruiz was silent.
“You sound very sure.”
“I’ve met men like him.”
At St. Catherine’s, Lily was moved through a secure entrance.
Doctors documented everything.
Finger-shaped bruising on her throat.
A fractured rib.
Older injuries in various stages of healing.
A scar beneath her hairline.
Damage to two fingers that had never been properly treated.
I stood beside the examination room while a forensic nurse photographed each injury.
Every image felt like a failure.
Not Lily’s.
Mine.
I had seen my daughter every Christmas.
Every birthday.
Every few weeks for dinner.
How had I missed this?
The answer was simple.
Richard was good at hiding it.
Lily had become good at helping him.
Long sleeves.
Makeup.
Canceled visits.
Excuses.
And I had respected her privacy when I should have trusted my instincts.
After the examination, she slept.
I sat outside her room.
Jack Monroe arrived after midnight.
He was sixty-eight now.
Gray hair.
Same heavy walk.
Same eyes that always looked like they had already seen the worst part of the room.
He sat beside me.
“You look terrible.”
“So do you.”
“Retirement.”
“Government.”
For a moment, we were two old friends pretending fifteen years had not passed.
Then Jack handed me a file.
“Richard Hale.”
Inside were photographs.
Bank transfers.
Corporate charts.
Political donations.
A map of Ashford County.
Nearly every major public project had passed through a company controlled by Charles Hale.
Roads.
Schools.
Courthouse renovations.
Hospital expansions.
Richard handled legal operations.
Chief Nolan handled problems.
“What about the missing witnesses?”
“Three confirmed.”
“Sarah Bell?”
“Likely four.”
I closed the file.
“You knew about this family before today.”
“Yes.”
“Why weren’t they arrested?”
“Because everyone who got close became unreliable, recanted, vanished, or died.”
“And now?”
“Now we have Lily.”
I looked toward her room.
“No.”
Jack understood immediately.
“She is not becoming bait.”
“She’s already a witness.”
“She’s my daughter first.”
“And that’s why I came personally.”
I leaned back.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Jack rubbed his jaw.
“Someone inside our investigation was leaking.”
I said nothing.
“We restricted the Hale case three months ago.”
“How many people still had access?”
“Seven.”
“Now?”
“Six.”
“Who was the seventh?”
Jack handed me a photograph.
The face belonged to a man I had worked beside during my last year in federal service.
Special Agent Eric Vance.
“He retired two years after you,” Jack said.
“Where is he now?”
“Ashford.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does he do?”
Jack looked directly at me.
“He works for Charles Hale.”
Before I could answer, Lily screamed from inside her room.
I was through the door first.
She was sitting upright.
A nurse stood beside her.
“Someone was here,” Lily gasped.
The nurse shook her head.
“No one came in.”
Lily pointed toward the table beside her bed.
A white Easter lily sat inside a glass vase.
There had been no flowers there before.
Tied around the stem was a small card.
I removed it carefully.
May you like
Four words were written in black ink.
YOU SHOULD HAVE FALLEN HARDER.
