Chapter 3 - The File Her Mother Hid
Ava entered her mother’s house through the back door.
Naomi remained two houses away.
A state investigator waited in an unmarked vehicle.
Ava hated the arrangement.
But her mother had specifically warned her not to bring police.
And right now Ava had no idea which police could be trusted.
“Mom?”
No answer.
The kitchen light was on.
Ava moved through the hallway.
Her childhood photographs still covered the walls.
School pictures.
Christmas mornings.
Her police academy graduation.
Her father appeared in only a few.
Daniel Mercer had died before digital photographs became a permanent record of everything.
The few pictures they had were precious.
One showed Daniel carrying Ava on his shoulders at a county fair.
Another showed Patrick standing beside them.
Brothers.
Smiling.
Normal.
Ava reached the kitchen.
Her mother, Ellen Mercer, sat at the table.
Patrick stood near the window.
The old file rested between them.
Ava stopped.
“Mom?”
Ellen looked as if she had aged ten years since yesterday.
Patrick’s expression was impossible to read.
Ava’s anger took over.
“Did you bug Marcus Reed’s office?”
Patrick didn’t deny it.
Ellen whispered, “Ava…”
“Did you?”
Patrick looked toward his sister-in-law.
Then back at Ava.
“Yes.”
Ava felt something break inside her.
She pulled her weapon.
Ellen gasped.
“Ava, no!”
Patrick slowly raised his hands.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“You should be suspicious.”
“You compromised an Internal Affairs investigation.”
“Yes.”
“You nearly got Marcus killed.”
Patrick’s face changed.
“What?”
“He was shot this morning.”
Patrick took a step forward.
Ava aimed.
“Stay there.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Then start explaining.”
Patrick glanced at the window.
“You’re being watched.”
“By who?”
“Everyone who matters.”
Ava almost laughed.
“That’s not an answer.”
Patrick pointed toward the file.
“Your father kept two copies of everything.”
“One disappeared.”
“Both disappeared.”
“Then what is that?”
“My copy.”
Ava stared.
Patrick lowered his hands slowly.
“Daniel gave it to me three days before he died.”
Ellen began crying.
Ava looked at her.
“You knew?”
Her mother nodded.
“For nineteen years?”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
Ava looked back at Patrick.
“Then why bug Marcus?”
“Because I heard Internal Affairs was reopening the Route 41 seizures.”
“How?”
“I still know people.”
“Which people?”
“Not everyone who wears a badge is corrupt, Ava.”
“That answer isn’t helping.”
Patrick sighed.
“I needed to know whether you were involved.”
“You could have called.”
“And asked if you were participating in a confidential sting?”
Ava said nothing.
Patrick continued.
“When I heard your name in Marcus Reed’s office, I panicked.”
“So you did nothing?”
“I followed you.”
Ava stared.
“You were there this morning?”
“Far enough away that you didn’t see me.”
“Did you send the truck?”
“No.”
“The shooter?”
“No.”
“Can you prove that?”
“No.”
The honesty unsettled her more than denial would have.
Ellen reached across the table.
“Ava, please sit.”
Ava didn’t.
“What is in the file?”
Patrick looked toward the folder.
“The reason Daniel died.”
Ava stepped closer.
Patrick opened it.
The first pages showed photographs of confiscated cash.
Evidence room receipts.
Traffic stop records.
Officer names.
Dates.
Then came photographs Ava did not recognize.
Warehouses.
Luxury cars.
A private airfield.
“What is this?”
“Your father discovered the roadside thefts weren’t just greedy cops skimming cash.”
Patrick turned another page.
“They were financing something bigger.”
Ava studied bank records.
Shell corporations.
Real estate purchases.
Payments.
“Organized crime?”
“Protection.”
“For who?”
“Drug traffickers at first. Later, weapons. Human smuggling.”
Ava’s stomach turned.
Patrick tapped the Route 41 map.
“Certain vehicles were stopped. Certain vehicles were never stopped.”
“So dirty officers controlled the road.”
“They created safe corridors.”
“For money.”
“Yes.”
“And Dad found out.”
Patrick nodded.
“He discovered that officers who stole money from random motorists were using it to hide payments from criminal groups. Everything mixed together.”
Ava looked through more pages.
Then she saw the names.
Vale.
Sloan.
Holloway.
Ava stopped.
“Wade Holloway was what? Twelve?”
“His father.”
Ava read.
Sergeant Thomas Holloway.
Suddenly Wade’s threat on the highway made sense.
This had been passed down.
Not just corruption.
Inheritance.
Patrick leaned against the counter.
“Daniel planned to go federal.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“He trusted the wrong person.”
Ava looked at him.
“Who?”
Patrick hesitated.
Ava raised the weapon again.
“Who?”
“Me.”
Silence filled the kitchen.
Ellen closed her eyes.
Ava could barely speak.
“You?”
“I told him to wait.”
“Why?”
“Because I was scared.”
“For him?”
Patrick shook his head.
“For myself.”
Ava stared.
Patrick’s voice became quieter.
“I was taking money.”
Ellen began sobbing.
Ava felt dizzy.
“How much?”
“Not much at first.”
“There’s no amount that makes that sentence better.”
“I know.”
“You were dirty.”
“Yes.”
“And Dad discovered it?”
“Yes.”
The words landed one at a time.
Ava whispered, “Did you kill him?”
Patrick’s eyes filled.
“No.”
“Did you help?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer!”
“I warned Sloan that Daniel was collecting evidence.”
Ava’s entire body went cold.
Patrick’s voice cracked.
“I thought Sloan would scare him. Transfer him. Destroy the file.”
“You told them.”
“Yes.”
“You told the men who murdered my father.”
“Yes.”
Ava stepped forward.
Patrick didn’t move.
“You let me spend nineteen years thinking he died chasing armed robbers.”
“I was a coward.”
“You stood at his funeral.”
“I know.”
“You held my hand.”
“I know.”
“You told me he loved me.”
“He did.”
Ava slapped him.
Hard.
Patrick’s head turned.
Nobody spoke.
Ava’s hand shook.
Then she hit him again.
“Why are you telling me now?”
“Because they know the file still exists.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who has been protecting them all these years?”
Patrick looked toward the doorway.
“Chief Vale.”
Ava lowered her weapon slightly.
“You’re certain?”
“Daniel recorded him.”
Patrick reached into the folder.
He removed a cassette tape.
Old.
Cracked.
Labeled D.M. / M.V. / 10-14.
Ava stared.
“Does it still work?”
“I transferred it digitally years ago.”
“Where?”
“Safe place.”
“Play it.”
Patrick hesitated.
Then removed a small recorder.
He pressed a button.
Static.
Then her father’s voice.
Ava had not heard Daniel Mercer speak since she was eight.
Her knees nearly failed.
Daniel said:
“Malcolm, this is bigger than Sloan.”
Another voice answered.
Chief Vale.
“You need to stop digging.”
Daniel: “People are being hurt.”
Vale: “Your daughter is eight years old.”
Ava covered her mouth.
Daniel: “Leave my family out of this.”
Vale: “I’m trying to keep you alive.”
Daniel: “Then help me.”
Long pause.
Vale: “I can’t.”
Daniel: “Why?”
The recording crackled.
Then Vale said something Ava would never forget.
“Because I already took their money.”
The recording stopped.
Nobody moved.
Ava looked at Patrick.
“We take this to the state attorney general.”
Patrick shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody in that office is compromised too.”
Ava’s phone buzzed.
Naomi.
She answered immediately.
“What?”
Naomi’s voice was urgent.
“Ava, get out of the house.”
“Why?”
“We found the shooter.”
“Who?”
“He’s dead.”
Ava looked toward the window.
“How?”
“Execution style.”
Patrick’s face changed.
He could hear enough.
Naomi continued.
“And Ava…”
“Yes?”
“We searched Wade Holloway’s house.”
A pause.
“We found photographs of you.”
Ava’s heartbeat accelerated.
“How many?”
“Hundreds.”
“From when?”
Naomi’s answer made the kitchen feel suddenly too small.
“Some were taken this week.”
Ava waited.
“Some were taken when you were a child.”
Then Patrick whispered.
“Oh God.”
Ava turned.
“What?”
Patrick looked toward the old photograph on the wall.
The one from the county fair.
Daniel.
Ava.
Patrick.
Three smiling faces.
Patrick pointed.
“Look behind us.”
Ava stepped closer.
In the background stood a uniformed young officer.
Watching them.
Malcolm Vale.
And beside him was another man.
A man Ava had never seen before.
Patrick whispered his name.
“Victor Crane.”
“Who is he?”
Patrick looked terrified.
“The man your father was actually investigating.”
Outside, a car door slammed.
May you like
Patrick went pale.
“He found us.”
