Then a man’s voice came through the phone.
“Because she has company.”
Ava stood.
“Mom?”
The line crackled.
Diana said:
“Ava, do not come here.”
Then the call ended.
Ava stared at the phone.
Mack was already moving.
“Who was that?”
“I don’t know.”
He opened the office door.
The men in the garage stood.
No questions.
They had seen his face.
Mack pointed toward one.
“Call Elena.”
Another.
“Pull exterior cameras.”
Ava followed him.
“We’re going to my mother.”
“No.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“You stay here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Ava.”
“My mother is in that apartment because of something connected to my father.”
“And whoever is there may want you more than her.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
She stepped closer.
“You are not my father.”
The words hit.
Mack did not flinch.
“No.”
“Then stop deciding for me like you are.”
For several seconds they stared at each other.
Finally Mack nodded.
“Fine.”
Ava expected argument.
Instead he handed her a motorcycle helmet.
“You follow instructions?”
“No promises.”
“Your father said the same thing.”
She put on the helmet.
“Was that supposed to make me like him?”
“No.”
Mack opened the garage door.
“It was supposed to warn me.”
By the time they reached Diana’s building, police cars were already outside.
Ava’s heart jumped.
Mack slowed the motorcycle.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
They parked half a block away.
A woman in a navy coat approached quickly.
Mid-forties.
Dark hair.
Federal credentials already in hand.
“Marcus Doyle?”
“Yes.”
“Ava Bennett?”
Ava looked at Mack.
“You called federal agents?”
“Not yet.”
The woman introduced herself.
“Elena Reyes. Department of Transportation Office of Inspector General.”
Ava frowned.
Mack had said “Call Elena” at the clubhouse.
“You know him.”
“For twenty years.”
“Where’s my mother?”
“Safe.”
The word knocked air from Ava’s lungs.
“Where?”
“Inside an ambulance. She’s shaken, not seriously injured.”
Ava ran toward the building.
Diana sat on the rear step of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket.
A bruise darkened one cheek.
Ava stopped.
For one second neither moved.
Then Diana stood.
Ava hugged her.
Hard.
Anger remained.
So did love.
Apparently both could occupy the same space.
“What happened?”
“Two men came in.”
“The ones from the diner?”
“I don’t know.”
Mack approached.
Diana looked at him.
Something old passed between them.
Trust.
Guilt.
Shared history.
Ava noticed everything now.
“Who called federal investigators?”
Diana looked toward Elena.
“I did.”
Ava stared.
“You had a federal agent’s number?”
“For eighteen years.”
“Of course you did.”
Elena stepped closer.
“We’ve had pieces of the Bellweather case for years.”
“But no evidence?”
“Not enough.”
Mack asked:
“What did they search?”
Diana looked toward her apartment window.
“Everything.”
“Did they take anything?”
“I don’t think so.”
Ava said:
“What are they looking for?”
Nobody answered.
Ava laughed sharply.
“This is becoming a pattern.”
Elena nodded.
“Fair.”
She motioned toward the building.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
The apartment door had not been forced.
Diana had opened it.
The men claimed to be city utility inspectors responding to a gas leak.
Once inside, they stopped pretending.
“They asked about a key,” Diana said.
“What key?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“They kept saying Nathan left it with you.”
Mack frowned.
“He didn’t.”
Ava looked at him.
“How would you know?”
“Because he left his last personal items with me.”
“Maybe he didn’t tell you everything.”
Mack considered that.
“Possible.”
The apartment had been torn apart.
Drawers emptied.
Mattress cut.
Kitchen cabinets opened.
Ava stepped into her childhood bedroom.
Even though she had moved out the previous year, her mother kept several boxes there.
One was missing.
“Mom.”
Diana entered.
“What?”
“The green storage box.”
Her mother’s face changed.
“What was in it?”
“School stuff.”
“What school stuff?”
“Yearbooks. Certificates. Baby things.”
Mack stepped into the doorway.
“Baby things?”
Ava looked at him.
“Hospital bracelet. First shoes. Blanket.”
Diana whispered:
“The music box.”
Ava frowned.
“What music box?”
Diana sat on the bed.
“Oh.”
Mack’s expression changed.
“What?”
“When Nathan found out I was pregnant, he bought a music box.”
“You told me he never gave you anything from Dad.”
Diana closed her eyes.
“I lied.”
Ava laughed without humor.
“Great.”
“It was a small wooden box. Blue.”
“Where is it?”
“In the green container.”
“Which is gone.”
Elena looked toward the hallway.
“Then they found what they came for.”
Mack asked:
“What was special about it?”
Diana shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“Think.”
“It played ‘Blue Moon.’ Nathan said his mother used to sing it.”
Ava looked at Mack.
He had gone completely still.
“What?”
He crossed the room.
“Did Nathan ever remove the mechanism?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did the box have a brass plate underneath?”
Diana thought.
“Yes.”
Mack swore quietly.
“What?”
He looked at Ava.
“Nathan built things when he was nervous.”
“So?”
“He modified lockboxes. Tool chests. Radios.”
Elena understood.
“You think the music box was a container.”
“I think it may have held the key everyone is looking for.”
“To what?” Ava demanded.
Elena answered.
“Bellweather’s original procurement archive.”
Ava frowned.
The federal investigator explained.
Digital copies of Nathan’s evidence had vanished after his death.
But Bellweather had used a proprietary physical archive system at the Harbor Point terminal.
Original maintenance authorizations were stored on encrypted optical discs.
Access required two physical authentication devices.
The company claimed both had been destroyed when the archive system was retired.
Nathan apparently discovered otherwise.
“One key could open the entire historical record,” Elena said.
“And those records prove fake parts were installed?”
“They could prove who authorized them.”
“Sloane.”
“Maybe.”
Mack shook his head.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Elena looked at him.
“Because I’m not.”
Everyone waited.
“We’ve spent years assuming Victor Sloane directed the fraud.”
“Who else?”
“Bellweather had a chief operating officer.”
Mack’s face changed.
“Gerald Voss.”
“The man who betrayed Dad.”
Ava looked between them.
Elena nodded.
“Voss became CEO after Sloane retired.”
Ava knew that too.
Gerald Voss was younger, smoother and far more visible than Victor Sloane.
He appeared in business magazines.
Spoke at universities.
Recently announced plans to run for state senate.
Elena continued.
“We know Voss had access to purchasing systems. We know he met Nathan the week Nathan died.”
“But?”
“We’ve never proved he ordered anything.”
Mack looked at the destroyed room.
“Until now.”
Ava said:
“If they have the music box, then they have the key.”
“Maybe.”
Mack looked at Diana.
“Did Ava ever play it?”
“When she was little.”
“Did she break it?”
Ava almost objected.
Then remembered.
“I dropped it.”
Diana looked at her.
“You were five.”
“What happened?”
“The song stopped.”
Mack suddenly smiled.
Ava did not like the expression.
“What?”
“Your father designed things in layers.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“He never put important things where someone would find them by opening the obvious compartment.”
Elena caught up.
“You think the real key isn’t inside the music mechanism.”
“Exactly.”
“Then where?”
Mack looked at Ava.
“When you dropped it, did anything come loose?”
She searched memory.
Wooden floor.
Her mother angry.
A small brass plate.
Ava froze.
“There was a nameplate.”
Diana stared.
“What?”
“I remember because it fell off.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I don’t know. Mom glued it back.”
Mack asked:
“What was written on the plate?”
Ava closed her eyes.
She could almost see it.
Not her name.
A phrase.
“My little…”
She opened her eyes.
“My Little North Star.”
Mack swallowed.
“Nathan called you that.”
Ava’s throat tightened.
Elena said:
“If the plate itself is the key, the people who took the box may not know.”
“Unless they inspect everything.”
Mack looked around.
“They will.”
Ava asked:
“How long?”
“Hours, maybe.”
“Then we find them first.”
Elena shook her head.
“We find the box through police work.”
“While they destroy the key?”
“While we avoid getting you killed.”
Ava’s anger rose again.
Everyone kept saying safe as though safe had produced a good life.
Safe had produced twenty-two years of lies.
“Those men followed me for three days.”
“Yes.”
“They grabbed my mother.”
“Yes.”
“They know my job and address.”
“Yes.”
“So explain where exactly I’m supposed to hide.”
Elena had no immediate answer.
Ava continued:
“I’m not saying I want to chase armed men.”
“Good.”
“I’m saying I want to understand what they’ll do next.”
Mack nodded.
“They’ll take the box to someone who knows Nathan.”
“Voss.”
“Maybe.”
Diana spoke quietly.
“Victor Sloane.”
Everyone turned.
Ava frowned.
“What?”
Diana looked at Mack.
“He came to me once.”
Mack’s face went pale.
“When?”
“Six months after Nathan died.”
“You never told me.”
“I was terrified.”
“What did he want?”
“To apologize.”
Silence.
Diana continued.
“He said Nathan had tried to warn him.”
Elena leaned closer.
“Warn him about what?”
“Voss.”
Ava stared.
Everything shifted.
Diana said:
“Sloane claimed he didn’t know counterfeit parts were being installed until after the derailment.”
Mack looked furious.
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
“What did he say about Nathan?”
“That Nathan brought him evidence.”
Elena whispered:
“Then why wasn’t it investigated?”
“Because Sloane said before he could act, Voss moved first.”
Mack stood.
“Victor Sloane has spent eighteen years pretending he didn’t know?”
Diana shook her head.
“He said he was trying to build his own case.”
Elena looked skeptical.
“Convenient.”
Ava asked:
“Where is Sloane now?”