Chapter 12 - The Man Inside the Task Force
Patrick survived because he was a coward.
That was Rebecca’s theory.
“Cowards notice exits,” she said.
She was right.
When the gunman entered the motel room, Patrick recognized him before the man could fire.
Patrick threw a lamp through the bathroom window and jumped from the second floor.
He broke his ankle.
Then crawled behind a dumpster while the gunman searched the parking lot.
Arizona police found him twenty minutes later.
The ledger disappeared.
But Patrick was alive.
More importantly, he recognized the attacker.
Special Agent Marcus Lane placed six photographs in front of him.
Patrick identified one.
Deputy U.S. Marshal Steven Cole.
Cole had attended two meetings inside our safe house.
He knew where we were staying.
He knew when agents were moving evidence.
The leak wasn’t political gossip.
It was federal law enforcement.
Cole disappeared before authorities could arrest him.
His home contained fifty thousand dollars in cash.
A burner phone.
And photographs of our family.
One showed Jamie leaving school years earlier.
Mom couldn’t look at it.
Patrick was flown back to Ohio under guard.
I expected a monster.
Instead, my uncle looked old.
Older than his sixty-three years.
His ankle was wrapped.
Bruises covered one side of his face.
Mom refused to hug him.
“Eight years,” she said.
Patrick lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
“You visited me twice.”
“I was afraid.”
“You watched my children grow up without me.”
“I know.”
“You knew I was innocent.”
“Yes.”
She slapped him.
Nobody stopped her.
Patrick began crying.
Then he told us the story.
He joined Voss’s network because he owed gambling debts.
At first, his role was small.
Sign paperwork.
Open companies.
Move money.
Then the amounts grew.
By the time Aaron discovered the scheme, Patrick was trapped.
“Aaron gave me one chance,” he said. “He told me to testify.”
“You refused.”
“I had people threatening me.”
“So did I.”
“I know.”
Mom turned away.
Patrick had taken the ledger from our fireplace after Mom burned it.
Half the pages were damaged.
He kept what survived.
Why?
Insurance.
“If Voss ever came after me, I wanted leverage.”
“Why give Jamie pages?”
Patrick looked at my brother.
“Because after your grandmother died, I realized I might not live forever.”
Jamie frowned.
“So you used me as a hiding place?”
“Yes.”
At least he didn’t romanticize it.
Then Patrick revealed something worse.
Aaron’s murder wasn’t initially planned.
Voss wanted the ledger.
Reed wanted Aaron frightened.
Brennan sent a man to the house.
But Aaron fought back.
The killer panicked.
“Who?” I asked.
Patrick stared at Mom.
“You already caught the man who physically killed Aaron.”
“Then what else are you hiding?”
“He wasn’t the one who ordered it.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed.
“Voss?”
Patrick shook his head.
“Malcolm Reed.”
That surprised everyone.
Reed had built the legal machine protecting the conspiracy.
When Aaron threatened exposure, Reed authorized violence without telling Voss.
After the murder, Voss helped cover it up because exposure would destroy all of them.
They framed Mom.
They stole the insurance money.
They buried Rebecca’s earlier investigation.
One decision poisoned everything after it.
“Where is the ledger now?” Agent Lane asked.
“Cole took it.”
“Any copies?”
Patrick smiled weakly.
“One.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Where?”
Patrick looked at me.
“Aaron’s grave.”
We reached Millhaven Cemetery before sunset.
Agents searched around the headstone.
Nothing.
Then Jamie noticed the dates carved into the stone.
Our father’s birth date.
Death date.
And beneath them, a small brass plate Patrick had paid to install years earlier.
BELOVED FATHER. BELOVED BROTHER. THE TRUTH OUTLIVES US ALL.
Behind the plate was a waterproof flash drive.
Scans of every surviving ledger page.
Payments connected Elias Voss directly to land fraud, bribery, obstruction, and insurance theft.
Enough to destroy a political career.
Maybe enough for prison.
The news broke at 8:05 p.m.
Senator Voss canceled every public appearance.
At 8:23, his attorney issued a statement calling the evidence fabricated.
At 9:10, Voss disappeared.
His security detail claimed he had dismissed them earlier.
His phone was found abandoned at a highway rest stop.
By midnight, federal agents were searching three states.
Mom finally allowed herself to smile.
“He’s running.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
“Voss doesn’t run.”
The lights suddenly went out.
Agent Lane drew his weapon.
A car exploded outside.
The blast shook the cemetery office windows.
People screamed.
Through the smoke came another sound.
A child crying.
I turned.
“Jamie?”
He had been standing beside me seconds earlier.
Now he was gone.
On the ground lay his blue blanket.
And pinned to it with a silver compass was a note.
ONE LAST TRADE.
May you like
THE BOY FOR THE LEDGER.
E.V.
