Six inches down, metal.
A waterproof ammunition box.
Daniel pulled it free.
Inside:
Photographs.
Bank statements.
A flash drive.
A notebook.
And an envelope.
DAN.
His hands shook slightly.
He opened it.
The note contained one page.
Dan,
If you're reading this, I didn't get to finish this myself.
Red Creek is being used as a transfer point.
Not drugs.
People.
Money buys silence.
Briggs controls the roads.
Mercer controls intimidation.
There are others.
I gave copies of everything to three places.
This is not the only evidence.
Don't play hero.
You always play hero.
Give the drive to someone outside Tennessee.
Trust nobody I worked with locally.
If they know you're here, they will try to force you into something violent.
They'll use that to discredit you.
One last thing.
The dog will find what I couldn't.
Sorry.
— Mike
Daniel read the letter twice.
People.
Human trafficking.
The photos confirmed it.
Vans.
License plates.
Women entering an abandoned feed warehouse outside town.
Financial transfers linked to Sheriff Briggs's brother.
Photographs of Wade meeting men from out of state.
Daniel felt cold.
Then the final line.
The dog will find what I couldn't.
Duke sat beside him.
Daniel looked at the shepherd.
"What did he mean?"
The dog tilted his head.
A branch snapped.
Duke's ears rose.
Daniel closed the ammunition box.
Engines sounded from the road.
Motorcycles.
Multiple.
Wade had found him.
Five motorcycles blocked the entrance when Daniel returned to the house.
Wade stood in front.
His left wrist was wrapped.
He smiled.
"Morning."
Daniel placed the ammunition box behind his leg.
Duke stood at heel.
"You follow everybody you attack?"
"Only friends."
"We're friends now?"
"Could be."
Wade looked toward the box.
"There it is."
Daniel said nothing.
"Turner made everything difficult."
"He was talented."
"Hand it over."
"No."
Wade sighed.
"See, Briggs said you'd say that."
Daniel calculated.
Five riders.
Two likely armed.
One pickup truck approaching from the road.
Too open.
Duke could incapacitate one man easily.
Maybe two.
But Daniel had spent most of his adult life learning that being able to fight was not the same thing as fighting being wise.
Michael's note:
They will try to force you into something violent.
He smiled.
Wade frowned.
"What's funny?"
"Your plan."
"You don't know the plan."
"Sure I do."
Daniel nodded toward the riders.
"You attack me."
"I hurt some of you."
"Briggs arrives."
"Evidence disappears."
"Retired Army lunatic attacks local bikers."
"Convenient."
Wade's smile vanished.
"Give me the box."
Daniel took out his phone.
Wade laughed.
"No service."
Daniel checked.
No bars.
Wade continued.
"Whole valley's dead."
Of course.
Daniel put the phone away.
"Still no."
One biker drew a handgun.
Duke growled.
Low.
The first growl Daniel had heard since retirement.
"Easy."
Duke silenced immediately.
Wade stepped closer.
"You love that dog?"
"Yes."
"Then don't make this complicated."
There it was.
Threat.
Daniel felt something inside him change.
Not rage.
Rage was loud.
This was colder.
He looked directly at Wade.
"If you point anything at Duke, you're going to have a very bad morning."
Wade almost believed him.
Almost.
Then a vehicle appeared on the county road.
Not sheriff.
An old Ford pickup.
It stopped.
A man climbed out.
Seventy.
Thin.
Farm overalls.
He carried no weapon.
"Morning, Wade."
Wade cursed.
"Go home, Henry."
Henry walked closer.
"Don't think so."
A second truck appeared.
Then another.
Daniel glanced toward the road.
Three vehicles.
Then five.
Residents.
An elderly woman.
Two mechanics.
A school bus driver.
The man Daniel had seen eating pie alone in the diner.
Wade looked around.
"What is this?"
Henry pointed toward the ammunition box.
"Turner told us somebody would come."
Daniel stared.
Henry looked at him.
"We've been waiting six months."
Daniel finally understood the title Michael had created without knowing it.
The entire town had been waiting.
Not to trap Daniel.
To see whether someone outside Red Creek would finally survive long enough to expose what was happening.
Wade shouted:
"All of you get out!"
Nobody moved.
Henry looked tired.
"For ten years, Wade."
"Don't."
"You took my niece."
"Shut up."
Daniel looked at Henry.
"What?"
Henry's voice broke.
"She disappeared."
"Twenty-two."
"Briggs called her a runaway."
"She wasn't."
Others began speaking.
"My daughter."
"My cousin."
"My employee."
One by one.
Missing women.
Transient workers.
Runaways passing through.
People the system could easily explain away.
Michael had found the pattern.
That was why he died.
Wade pulled his handgun.
Everything happened quickly.
Not toward Daniel.
Toward Henry.
"Back up!"
Duke moved.
Daniel gave one command.
"Take."
The shepherd exploded forward.
Two years earlier Duke had pursued armed insurgents through smoke.
Retirement had not erased instinct.
He struck Wade's gun arm from the side.
The shot went into the dirt.
Wade screamed.
The handgun fell.
Daniel kicked it away.
The other bikers hesitated.
Too many witnesses.
Phones appeared.
This time people were filming.
Daniel shouted:
"Nobody touch them!"
Henry looked surprised.
"Why?"
"Because that's what they want."
Daniel picked up Wade's handgun using a cloth and placed it on the hood of the truck.
"Evidence."
Sirens approached.
Wade laughed from the ground.
"Here comes Briggs."
Daniel looked toward the residents.
Nobody moved.
Sheriff Briggs arrived with four deputies.
He stepped out.
Saw Wade.
Saw the crowd.
Saw Daniel.
His face changed.
"Everyone clear the area!"
Nobody did.
Briggs reached for his holster.
Then another siren sounded.
Different tone.
State police.
Three Tennessee Bureau of Investigation vehicles followed.
Daniel almost smiled.
Briggs stared.
"What the hell?"
A woman in a dark jacket stepped out.
"TBI!"
Briggs went pale.
Daniel looked toward Henry.
"How?"
Henry smiled.
"We're country people."
"We understand dead zones."
He held up an old satellite phone.
"Turner gave us one."
Michael again.
Always five moves ahead.
TBI Agent Rachel Moore approached.
"Daniel Cross?"
"Yes."
"Master Sergeant Turner told us to expect a package connected to you."
Daniel lifted the ammunition box.
"Found it."
Briggs shouted:
"That evidence is part of a local investigation."