She rarely came in.
She handled everything remotely.
Payroll.
Supplies.
Repairs.
Carol had met her only twice.
But there had always been something strange.
Evelyn knew everyone's schedule.
Everyone's habits.
She knew when the diner was busy.
She knew which truckers stopped on which nights.
She knew which employees lived alone.
Carol had never questioned it.
Why would she?
It was a diner.
People weren't supposed to disappear from diners.
They were supposed to leave with full stomachs.
Mercer returned.
"We need to go."
Carol looked at him.
"Pike said the owner is involved."
"Yes."
"Do you believe him?"
"I believe evidence."
"And the key?"
Mercer held it up.
"We're going to find out what it opens."
The answer came two hours later.
Back at Hollow Creek, Mercer walked behind the counter.
He looked at the floor.
Then at the shelves.
Then at the old storage room.
Carol followed.
"Nothing here."
Mercer knelt.
He tapped the floorboards.
One sounded hollow.
He looked up.
"Get me a crowbar."
Sam brought one.
The board lifted.
Underneath was a metal box.
Inside were files.
Dozens of them.
Names.
Photographs.
Addresses.
Employment records.
And payments.
Carol recognized several names.
People who had eaten at Hollow Creek.
People she remembered.
A young woman who had worked at a hotel.
A man who had once asked for directions.
A couple who had stayed in Flagstaff for three weeks.
Carol's hands shook.
"How long?"
Mercer looked at the files.
"At least five years."
Carol sat down.
Five years.
She had been serving coffee while people were being recruited, watched, and moved.
She felt sick.
Then Mercer pulled out one final file.
It had Maya's name.
Inside was a photograph.
But the photograph wasn't of Maya.
It was of Carol.
Taken outside Hollow Creek.
Three months earlier.
Carol stared at it.
"Why am I in her file?"
Mercer didn't answer.
There was another photograph.
Carol entering the diner.
Another.
Carol leaving with Emily.
Another.
Carol standing beside Sam.
And beneath them, a handwritten note:
WHITFIELD IS TRUSTED BY STAFF. POTENTIAL UNWITTING ACCESS POINT.
Carol looked up.
"They were watching me."
Mercer nodded.
"But why?"
Before he could answer, the landline rang.
Everyone froze.
It was almost midnight.
Carol reached for the phone.
Mercer shook his head.
She answered anyway.
"Hollow Creek Diner."
Silence.
Then Maya's voice.
"Carol?"
Carol stood.
"Maya?"
"Please listen."
"Where are you?"
"I don't know."
Carol's heart pounded.
"I can hear you."
"They're taking me north."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Maya began crying.
"They found the notebook."
Carol looked at Mercer.
"Can you get away?"
"I don't know."
"Tell me what you see."
Maya breathed rapidly.
"There's a sign."
"What sign?"
"I can't read it."
"Try."
"Blue..."
She stopped.
Then someone shouted in the background.
Maya whispered:
"Blue Canyon."
The line went dead.
Mercer was already moving.
"Blue Canyon."
Carol followed.
"Where is it?"
Mercer answered:
"Two hours north."
He looked at the clock.
12:14 a.m.
Then at the rain.
"We're going now."
The Road North
The road north was almost empty.
Rain turned to sleet around midnight.
By 1:30, the mountains were disappearing into fog.
Carol sat in the passenger seat beside Mercer.
She had barely spoken.
Her thoughts kept returning to Maya's voice.
Please listen.
Two words.
That was all it took.
Carol remembered being twenty-nine.
Remembered standing in a parking lot in the middle of the night.
Remembered having a suitcase.
Remembered not knowing where she would sleep.
She had called her sister.
Her sister had answered.
That single act had changed everything.
Someone had answered.
That was why Carol couldn't stop now.
At 2:02, Mercer's radio crackled.
"Unit Three approaching Blue Canyon."
Mercer responded.
"Copy."
Then:
"Possible vehicle located."
Mercer accelerated.
They found the SUV abandoned near an old maintenance road.
Doors open.
Engine cold.
No Maya.
No Frank.
No Roy.
Carol stepped out.
The snow was beginning to stick.
An agent searched the vehicle.
Then shouted.
"We found something."
A backpack.
Inside:
Maya's phone.
A wallet.
A child's photograph.
And a folded napkin from Hollow Creek Diner.
Carol recognized it immediately.
She had written something on it.
Three words.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
Mercer looked at her.
"Did you write this?"
Carol nodded.
Maya must have taken it.
The agents spread out.
Footprints led into the woods.
Carol followed.
"Stay back," Mercer warned.
She ignored him.
The footprints continued for nearly half a mile.
Then disappeared near an abandoned service tunnel.
Mercer stopped.
"This is a mine entrance."
Carol stared into the darkness.
"Could they be inside?"
"Maybe."
He motioned to the team.
They entered.
The tunnel smelled of damp earth and gasoline.
A light flickered in the distance.
Then they heard voices.
Frank.
"Move."
Another voice.
Maya.
"Please."
Carol's heart broke.
Mercer raised his hand.
The team advanced.
They found a room carved into the mountain.
Maya was there.
So was Roy.
And two other victims.
Frank stood near the entrance with a gun.
Everything happened at once.
Someone shouted.
Frank raised the weapon.
Mercer pushed Carol down.
A shot exploded through the tunnel.
The sound echoed like thunder.
Frank ran.
Agents chased him.
Roy froze.
Maya collapsed.
Carol crawled toward her.
"Maya."
Maya looked at her.
For a moment, she didn't recognize her.
Then she did.
"Carol."
"I'm here."
Maya grabbed her hand.
"You came."
Carol squeezed her fingers.
"I told you."
Maya started crying.
"You came."
Carol pulled her into her arms.
The other victims were alive.
One was barely sixteen.
The other was a young man named Lucas.
They had been held there for three days.