“He told me to forget about it. He said people who made trouble sometimes received warnings. He told me that if I cared about my family, I would stop asking questions.”
Victoria leaned back.
Whitmore had admitted to corruption, but he had also insisted that he could provide information about the larger network. If Ryan's statement was accurate, the sheriff had known about the threats long before he agreed to cooperate.
“Did Whitmore ever mention Peter Wallace?”
Ryan nodded slowly.
“Once. I was working late when I saw a man enter the sheriff's private office. He wasn't wearing a uniform. Whitmore looked uncomfortable when he noticed me.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“I saw him leaving. I later found his photograph in an old security file. It was Peter Wallace.”
Victoria exchanged a glance with Sarah.
“Why didn't you tell us earlier?”
“Because I was afraid. I had already watched what happened to people who challenged the sheriff. And after I saw my father's name in that message, I knew they could reach anyone.”
Victoria understood his fear. She also understood that his information might finally connect the threats against his family to the people who had been manipulating the investigation.
“Ryan, I need you to help us reconstruct every encounter you remember. Every visitor, every conversation, every instruction that seemed unusual. Even details you believe are insignificant.”
He nodded.
“I'll tell you everything.”
Sarah entered the room carrying a tablet.
“We have a development.”
Victoria stood.
“Tell me.”
“The vehicle outside the storage facility was identified through a traffic camera. The license plate was stolen, but the driver matches Peter Wallace.”
“Where is he now?”
“We don't know. However, a second camera captured the vehicle near a private airfield less than an hour after leaving the storage facility.”
“Is there a flight record?”
“Two private aircraft departed within that period. One was registered to a company connected to Donovan Development Group.”
Victoria felt the pieces moving closer together.
“Where did it go?”
“An airfield outside Richmond. We are checking the destination.”
Victoria turned to Ryan.
“Do you know anything about Donovan's private properties?”
Ryan shook his head.
But then he remembered something.
“Whitmore once mentioned a place called Blackwood.”
Sarah looked up.
“Blackwood?”
“A private estate. I heard him talking to Wallace on the phone. He said something about moving a witness to Blackwood before the federal team arrived.”
Victoria's expression hardened.
“Could that be where your father is?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
Ryan closed his eyes, trying to recall the conversation.
“Whitmore said the place was owned by a company, not an individual. He mentioned an old hunting lodge and a road that wasn't on public maps.”
Sarah began typing.
“That's enough to start looking.”
Victoria turned toward the door.
“Contact the field office in Virginia. I want every property associated with Donovan Development Group examined. But do not send anyone to Blackwood until we have confirmation.”
Sarah nodded.
“And Harlan?”
Victoria looked at the photograph of her father.
“We need to know what he is doing today.”
Across Washington, Richard Harlan sat in a private dining room overlooking the city.
He had ordered coffee but had not touched it.
A man stood near the window, his face partially hidden by the reflection in the glass. It was Charles Donovan.
“You told me the evidence had been destroyed,” Donovan said.
“It was supposed to have been destroyed.”
“Supposed to?”
Harlan's voice remained calm.
“Bennett's daughter has recovered something her mother kept hidden.”
Donovan walked toward the table.
“What exactly?”
“Original documents. Possibly a recording.”
For the first time, Donovan appeared genuinely disturbed.
“Does she have the names?”
“She has enough to become dangerous.”
“Then stop her.”
Harlan looked up.
“That's easier said than done. She has already distributed copies of the evidence. If anything happens to her now, the investigation will become national news.”
Donovan leaned forward.
“Then discredit her. Make people believe she stole the documents. Make them believe she fabricated the recording.”
“Her father's voice is recognizable.”
“Then claim it was edited.”
Harlan considered the suggestion.
“There is another problem. Miller has disappeared.”
Donovan's expression darkened.
“Was he compromised?”
“I don't know. His last call was to my office.”
“Then you should have dealt with him before he became a liability.”
Harlan's eyes narrowed.
“Do not speak to me as if I work for you.”
Donovan smiled coldly.
“You may have forgotten who paid for your first campaign, who protected your position during the inquiry, and who made sure your name never appeared in the financial records.”
Harlan stood.
“Careful, Charles.”