Chapter 5 - The Badge Against Her
By sunrise, Ava Mercer’s photograph was on every television station in Northbridge.
POLICE DETECTIVE WANTED FOR QUESTIONING.
The department released a carefully written statement.
Detective Mercer was believed to have participated in an unauthorized operation.
Evidence had allegedly been manipulated.
Officer Wade Holloway had supposedly been “targeted.”
Nothing was said about the destroyed license.
Nothing about the gunman.
Nothing about the truck.
Nothing about Marcus being shot.
Ava watched the news from a safe apartment owned by the state prosecutor’s office.
She felt as though she were watching someone else’s life collapse.
Marcus switched off the television.
“Don’t.”
“I need to know what they’re saying.”
“You know what they’re saying.”
“They’re calling me corrupt.”
“They’re repeating what Vale gave them.”
Naomi stood near the window.
Her face was tight.
“They suspended me.”
Ava turned.
“What?”
“Effective immediately.”
“Can he do that?”
“No.”
“Then why—”
“The mayor signed it.”
Silence.
Marcus swore.
Ava looked between them.
“So Vale controls the mayor?”
“Maybe,” Naomi said. “Or the mayor thinks Vale is telling the truth.”
Ava laughed without humor.
“He moved fast.”
Marcus nodded.
“That means he’s scared.”
“Or powerful.”
“Both.”
Ava stood.
“I’m turning myself in.”
Naomi spun around.
“No.”
“If I run, I look guilty.”
“If you walk into headquarters, you may never walk out.”
“Then where?”
“State police.”
Marcus shook his head.
“We don’t know who is compromised.”
Ava suddenly understood what Victor Crane had built.
Not an organization with headquarters.
Not a gang with uniforms.
A web.
A favor here.
A payment there.
A frightened cop.
A bought prosecutor.
A blackmailed official.
Enough corruption that nobody knew where the clean ground ended.
A knock came.
Three quick taps.
Then two slow.
The agreed signal.
Patrick entered.
He carried a cardboard box.
Ava glared.
“You’re supposed to be in protective custody.”
“I left.”
Naomi looked furious.
“You escaped.”
“That sounds dramatic.”
“You climbed through a bathroom window.”
“The door had a guard.”
Marcus almost smiled.
Naomi did not.
Patrick placed the box on the table.
“This is why I left.”
Inside were newspaper clippings.
Old phone records.
Photographs.
A tiny VHS tape.
And a black notebook.
Ava reached for it.
Patrick stopped her.
“This belonged to Daniel.”
Her father’s handwriting filled the pages.
Short notes.
License plate numbers.
Initials.
Meeting locations.
Ava turned page after page.
Then stopped.
M.V. IS NOT THE CENTER.
V.C. CONTROLS SLOAN.
HOLLOWAY TAKES CASH.
P.M. SCARED. MAY STILL HELP.
Ava looked at Patrick.
Her uncle’s eyes filled.
“He knew what I did.”
Ava continued.
Last page.
IF THEY COME FOR ME, FIND LUCAS.
Ava frowned.
“Lucas who?”
Patrick said nothing.
Naomi asked, “Who is Lucas?”
Patrick sat down slowly.
“Daniel’s informant.”
“Full name?”
“I never knew.”
“Where is he?”
“If Daniel wrote that, he believed Lucas was alive.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“You said all witnesses were killed.”
“Maybe not this one.”
Ava stared at the line.
FIND LUCAS.
Underneath was an address.
An old motel outside the city.
They drove there separately.
No department vehicles.
No phones except prepaid devices.
The Brookfield Motor Lodge had closed eleven years earlier.
Half the windows were boarded.
Ava entered room 17 with Naomi and Patrick.
Empty.
Dust everywhere.
Marcus checked the bathroom.
Nothing.
Ava looked at the wall.
Her father had written the address for a reason.
She checked the baseboards.
Closet.
Air vent.
Then she noticed something carved into the wooden nightstand.
Three letters.
D.M.
She pulled the drawer out completely.
Taped beneath it was a key.
Patrick whispered, “Locker key.”
Ava looked closer.
Number 214.
Naomi said, “Train station.”
Northbridge Central still had storage lockers.
They arrived just before noon.
Locker 214 was on the lower level near the commuter platforms.
Ava inserted the key.
It opened.
Inside sat an old duffel bag.
Marcus searched it.
Cash.
Approximately fifty thousand dollars.
A handgun.
Three cassette tapes.
And a photograph.
Ava lifted it.
Her father stood beside a young man.
Behind them was Victor Crane.
Ava turned the picture over.
LUCAS KNOWS EVERYTHING.
She looked at Patrick.
“That is Crane in the photo.”
“Yes.”
“And Lucas?”
Patrick pointed toward the young man beside Daniel.
Ava stared.
Something about his face felt familiar.
Marcus saw it too.
“Wait.”
He took out his phone and searched cached public photographs.
Then showed her.
Chief Malcolm Vale.
Twenty years ago.
Ava looked back at the picture.
Not Vale.
But similar.
Very similar.
Patrick whispered, “Lucas wasn’t his real name.”
Ava looked at him.
“Then what was it?”
Patrick hesitated.
“Ethan Vale.”
Ava’s eyes widened.
“Chief Vale’s brother?”
“Younger brother.”
Naomi said, “Vale has a brother?”
“Had.”
“What happened?”
“Officially?”
Patrick swallowed.
“He disappeared nineteen years ago.”
The night before Daniel Mercer died.
Ava looked at the photograph again.
Ethan Vale.
The missing witness.
Daniel’s secret informant.
Marcus opened one cassette case.
A label:
E.V. TESTIMONY.
Ava reached for the tape.
A voice came from behind them.
“Put it down.”
They turned.
Three officers stood at the end of the locker corridor.
Weapons drawn.
Northbridge uniforms.
Ava recognized the sergeant in front.
Gregory Pell.
Twenty-five years in the department.
Worked directly under Chief Vale.
Pell smiled.
“Detective Mercer.”
Ava slowly raised her hands.
“You found me quickly.”
“Everybody is looking for you.”
Marcus said, “We’re officers of the court.”
Pell shrugged.
“Not my problem.”
Naomi stared at the officers.
“Greg, think carefully.”
“I have.”
“Whose order?”
Pell smiled.
“The chief’s.”
Patrick whispered, “Malcolm?”
Pell laughed.
“No.”
Ava frowned.
Then another man walked into the corridor.
Gray hair.
Expensive coat.
Black cane.
Ava recognized him from the old photograph.
Victor Crane.
Alive.
Real.
Standing twenty feet away.
He looked at Ava with quiet fascination.
“You have Daniel’s eyes.”
Ava’s entire body tightened.
Crane nodded toward the cassette.
“Give me Ethan Vale’s testimony.”
“No.”
Crane smiled.
“That answer killed your father.”
May you like
Then the train station lights went out.
And in the darkness, someone fired.
