“No. You be careful. The Bennett woman is looking at the entire operation now. If she finds the connection between the old case and the missing money, we lose everything.”
Harlan walked to the window.
For years, he had believed he could control every person involved. He had recruited officials, manipulated reports, and used Wallace to intimidate witnesses. But Victoria was proving difficult to predict.
She had inherited her father's stubbornness.
And that made her dangerous.
“What do you want me to do?” Harlan asked.
Donovan placed a small envelope on the table.
“There's a hearing scheduled for tomorrow. We have enough influence to force an emergency review of her authority. I want her suspended before she can present the evidence.”
“And if the hearing fails?”
“Then we move to the next option.”
Harlan opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Victoria leaving the storage facility.
On the back was a handwritten message.
She must never reach the public with the original recording.
Harlan stared at it.
“Who sent this?”
Donovan didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward the door.
“Make sure it happens.”
At the federal facility, Sarah was examining the old financial records when she noticed a discrepancy.
The documents in Eleanor Bennett's storage unit contained a list of transfers between several foundations and private companies. Most of the transactions were small enough to avoid immediate attention. But when combined, they revealed a pattern.
One foundation had received nearly twelve million dollars in public grants over four years.
According to official reports, the money had been used to provide emergency assistance to families of fallen officers.
However, the bank statements showed that most of it had been transferred to three shell companies.
Sarah opened another folder.
There were payment records, signatures, and internal emails.
Then she found something that made her stop.
A document listed the names of seventeen families who were supposed to receive financial support.
Beside each name was a payment date and an amount.
But the bank records showed that the money had never reached them.
Sarah called Victoria.
“You need to see this.”
Victoria entered the room.
“What did you find?”
“The foundation was more than a financial cover. They used the names of real families to justify the grants.”
Sarah showed her the list.
Victoria scanned it.
Then she recognized one of the names.
“James Mitchell.”
Ryan's father.
Sarah looked at her.
“That's impossible.”
Victoria examined the date.
The payment was recorded four years earlier, shortly after Ryan's father retired from the sheriff's department.
“How much was he supposed to receive?”
“Forty-eight thousand dollars.”
“Did he ever receive it?”
“I checked the available banking records. No.”
Victoria looked toward the door.
“Ryan needs to see this.”
Sarah hesitated.
“Do you think his father knew?”
“Maybe not. But if he discovered that his retirement assistance had been stolen, it could explain why he became a target.”
Sarah enlarged the document.
There was another detail.
The approval signature belonged to Margaret Ellis, the administrative clerk who had helped preserve the original complaints.
But Margaret had already testified that her signature was forged.
Victoria studied the document carefully.
“Who authorized the transfer?”
Sarah pointed to a second signature at the bottom.
It belonged to a county official named Edward Lang.
Victoria recognized the name from the list found in her mother's box.
He had retired three years earlier and was now serving as a consultant to Donovan Development Group.
“Find him,” Victoria said.
“Where?”
“Everywhere. His homes, offices, business connections, travel records. I want to know where he has been since we recovered the evidence.”
Sarah nodded.
A few minutes later, another message arrived.
The Virginia field office had identified a property matching the description of Blackwood.
It was an isolated estate surrounded by several hundred acres of privately owned woodland. The land belonged to a holding company connected to Donovan. There were no public records indicating that the property was being used as a residence.
However, an unusual amount of electricity had been consumed there over the past two weeks.
The property also had a private access road and a small landing area.
Victoria read the report twice.
“Could Ryan's father be there?”
“It's possible,” Sarah answered. “But we need more than a possibility before we move.”
Victoria nodded.
“Get surveillance teams in position. No contact with the property until we know who is inside.”
At Blackwood, James Mitchell sat in a dark room with his hands tied to the arms of a wooden chair.
His captor had not struck him.
That was almost worse.
The man had simply placed a glass of water on the table and told him to remain quiet.