Someone had been watching.
Claire stared at the photograph.
"Dad..."
Samuel turned it over.
On the back was another message.
STOP LOOKING INTO WHAT HAPPENED AT THE COUNTY STORAGE FACILITY.
Samuel felt the room become very quiet.
Claire looked confused.
"What storage facility?"
Samuel didn't answer.
Because he knew exactly what it meant.
Six years ago, shortly before his retirement, Samuel had investigated a missing evidence case.
A county storage facility had reported a break-in.
Nothing valuable was officially missing.
But Samuel had never believed that report.
Three evidence boxes had disappeared.
All three were connected to a corruption investigation.
The case had been closed.
Samuel had been ordered to stop asking questions.
He had obeyed.
Or so everyone thought.
He had never forgotten.
Now someone was telling him to stop looking.
But Samuel hadn't been looking.
Not for six years.
Which meant someone believed he was about to start again.
And that meant someone was afraid.
Samuel put the photograph on the table.
"Claire."
"What?"
"I need you to listen carefully."
She nodded.
"If anyone calls you asking about me, you tell them nothing."
"Dad, you're scaring me."
"I know."
"What's happening?"
"I don't know yet."
"Then tell me what you do know."
Samuel looked at her.
For a moment, he considered lying again.
Then he remembered something his father had told him when he was a boy.
Truth doesn't always make life easier.
But lies make it impossible to know where you stand.
So Samuel told her everything.
The traffic stop.
The money.
The badge.
The deputies.
The photograph.
The note.
And the old investigation.
Claire listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she sat down.
"Why would anyone care about something from six years ago?"
"Because maybe it wasn't finished."
"Then why threaten me?"
Samuel's eyes moved toward the window.
"Because threatening me isn't working."
Claire swallowed.
"So they're using me."
Samuel nodded.
"Maybe."
The word hung in the air.
Then came three knocks at the front door.
Claire jumped.
Samuel didn't.
He simply turned toward the sound.
Three more knocks.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Samuel moved toward the door.
Claire whispered,
"Don't."
Samuel stopped.
His phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
OPEN THE DOOR, SAMUEL.
He stared at it.
Then another message arrived.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE BADGE.
Samuel looked at Claire.
Then at the door.
He knew something now.
The traffic stop hadn't been random.
The photograph hadn't been a warning.
The envelope hadn't been a coincidence.
Someone had been waiting for him to come to Bellweather.
And they had known exactly when he would arrive.
Samuel put his phone away.
"Stay behind me."
Claire nodded.
He opened the door.
No one was there.
Only rain.
And on the porch lay a small cardboard box.
Samuel picked it up.
There was no label.
No return address.
He brought it inside.
Claire locked the door.
Samuel opened the box.
Inside was an old evidence photograph.
A newspaper clipping.
And a flash drive.
He picked up the photograph first.
It showed the county storage facility six years earlier.
Three men stood beside a truck.
One was Tyler Boone.
The deputy who had stopped Samuel that morning.
The second man was the older deputy.
The third man was someone Samuel recognized immediately.
Bellweather's current county sheriff.
Samuel slowly lowered the photograph.
Claire stared at him.
"Dad?"
Samuel looked toward the rain-covered window.
"The past just came back."
"What are you going to do?"
He smiled faintly.
"For the first time in six years?"
He picked up the flash drive.
"I'm going to finish what I started."
The flash drive contained only one folder.
Inside were seventeen files.
Samuel opened the first.
A list of evidence numbers.
The second contained bank transfers.
The third showed photographs of sealed evidence boxes.
The fourth contained names.
Samuel read them carefully.
Some were familiar.