Families.
Amounts.
Dates.
Some were marked deceased.
Others had no status.
But every payment went through Pierce Logistics.
Grant's anger grew.
Then a sound came from outside.
A vehicle door slammed.
Tommy moved toward the entrance.
“Someone's here.”
Grant motioned everyone back.
Two black SUVs entered the facility.
Then a third.
Marcus whispered:
“They followed us.”
Grant looked at Lily.
“Stay behind me.”
The first SUV stopped.
Four men stepped out.
Grant recognized one.
Gray hair.
Glasses.
Alan Voss.
He stood several yards away.
“Grant Callahan.”
Grant stared at him.
“You're supposed to be retired.”
Voss smiled.
“You're supposed to be grieving.”
Grant's hands curled into fists.
“You lied to me.”
“I protected you.”
“You buried a stranger and told me it was my brother.”
Voss's expression remained calm.
“You don't understand what your brother was involved in.”
“He was trying to expose you.”
Voss laughed softly.
“Michael was reckless.”
Grant stepped forward.
“You know where he is?”
Voss's smile disappeared.
“Not anymore.”
Grant felt the meaning behind the words.
“Where was he?”
Voss said nothing.
Then one of the men behind him spoke.
“We need the girl.”
Grant turned.
Lily had moved behind Tommy.
Grant stepped between them.
“No.”
Voss sighed.
“This doesn't have to become violent.”
Tommy laughed.
“That's usually what people say before making it violent.”
Voss ignored him.
“Grant, walk away.”
“No.”
“Your brother made the mistake of thinking evidence was enough.”
Grant stared at him.
“You're afraid.”
Voss's eyes hardened.
“You don't know what you're dealing with.”
Grant smiled without humor.
“I know exactly what I'm dealing with.”
He pointed toward Lily.
“I'm dealing with a little girl whose mother trusted me.”
Then toward Voss.
“And a coward who spent six years hiding behind a badge.”
Voss gave a small nod.
“Then you're going to make this difficult.”
Grant answered:
“You already did.”
The Riders moved.
Not attacking.
Just positioning themselves.
Twelve bikers.
Between one little girl and four men.
Voss looked around.
For the first time, uncertainty crossed his face.
Then sirens sounded in the distance.
Voss smiled.
“You called the police?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
The sirens grew louder.
Voss looked toward the road.
Two police cruisers entered the facility.
But the first officer who stepped out was not local.
She wore a federal badge.
“Grant Callahan?”
Grant nodded.
She approached.
“I'm Special Agent Dana Mercer.”
She looked at Voss.
“Alan Voss, you're under investigation.”
Voss's face went pale.
Dana held up a warrant.
“And before you ask, yes, we know about Michael Callahan.”
Grant stared at her.
“Is he alive?”
Dana looked directly at him.
“We believe he is.”
Grant's knees nearly failed.
Lily stepped beside him.
“What about my mom?”
Dana's expression changed.
“We found Sarah.”
Grant grabbed the edge of the motorcycle cover.
“Where?”
Dana took a breath.
“She was being held at a private property outside town.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
Grant closed his eyes.
For the first time in six years, hope did not feel like betrayal.
It felt like something he was finally allowed to have.
The House in the Woods
Sarah Callahan was found in an old farmhouse nearly forty miles from Columbus.
She was alive.
Weak.
Dehydrated.
But alive.
Grant arrived before the ambulance left.
The moment Sarah saw him, she began to cry.
“Grant.”
He stopped beside the stretcher.
“Sarah?”
She nodded.
“I knew Michael was right.”
Grant swallowed.
“Where is he?”
Sarah closed her eyes.
“He's alive.”
Grant's entire body went still.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
She looked at Lily.
“Lily!”
The girl moved toward her mother.
Sarah reached out.
Lily threw her arms around her.
For several seconds, mother and daughter simply held each other.
Grant stood nearby.
He didn't interrupt.
Eventually Sarah looked at him.
“Michael saved us.”
“Tell me everything.”
Sarah nodded.
“Six years ago, Michael discovered what Voss was doing.”
“What was he doing?”
“People who had no family nearby were disappearing.”
Grant's face tightened.
“Homeless people?”
“Some. Runaways. Elderly people with no relatives. People with addictions. People who wouldn't be immediately missed.”
“What happened to them?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Some were moved across state lines. Some were forced into labor. Some were used in fraudulent insurance schemes.”
Grant felt sick.
“Why?”
“Money.”
Sarah looked at Lily.
“Michael found documents.”
“And Voss?”
“Voss found Michael.”
Grant sat beside her.
“What happened that night?”
“He called me.”
Sarah's voice trembled.
“He said he was being followed. He told me to take Lily and leave.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did everyone think Michael died?”
“Because he staged it.”
Grant stared.
Sarah continued.
“He knew Voss was watching him. Michael used a stolen vehicle and arranged for it to be found near the river.”
“But the body?”
“There was another man.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“Who?”
“Someone who had already been killed.”
Silence.
Grant understood.
“The body was unidentified.”
Sarah nodded.
“They used Michael's records to make it look like him.”
Grant's anger became almost unbearable.
“Why didn't Michael come home?”
“He tried.”
“When?”
“Two years later.”
Grant looked at her.
Sarah continued.
“He contacted me. He said he was building a case. He couldn't come back until he had enough evidence.”
“Why didn't he contact me?”
“He wanted to protect you.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“Protect me?”
“You were already known to Voss.”
“Because of Michael?”
Sarah nodded.
“Voss knew Michael trusted you.”
Grant looked at Lily.
“Why send her now?”
Sarah's eyes filled.
“Because they found us.”
She explained that three weeks earlier, someone had broken into their home.
Michael's hidden network had been compromised.
Sarah knew they would come for Lily.
She had only one option.
Get her to Grant.
“Why not the FBI?”
“We didn't know who we could trust.”
Dana Mercer approached.
“We know.”
Grant turned.
Dana held a folder.
“We've been investigating Voss for eighteen months.”
Grant stared.
“Then why didn't you stop him?”
“Because we didn't know who else was involved.”
She opened the folder.
“Now we do.”
Inside were photographs of county officials, business owners, police officers, and private contractors.
Grant recognized several.
Some had attended Michael's funeral.
He felt nauseated.
Dana continued.