It fit.
Inside the cabinet were several folders, a laptop, and a small black notebook.
Victoria opened the notebook.
The first pages contained payment records.
The next pages contained names.
And near the back was a list of dates corresponding to several unexplained disappearances.
James leaned closer.
“I saw that notebook before. Wallace kept it with him whenever he visited.”
Victoria turned another page.
One entry was dated the day her father died.
Beside it were three initials.
R.H.
P.W.
T.M.
Victoria felt her breath catch.
Her father's death had not been an isolated event.
It had been recorded in the same notebook as the other operations.
“Secure this,” she said quietly. “Every page.”
An agent placed the notebook inside an evidence bag.
Then another radio transmission came through.
“Command, suspect Wallace is attempting to escape through the northern tree line.”
Victoria looked at Sarah.
“Get him.”
The tactical team moved immediately.
Peter Wallace reached the edge of the woods before he realized the entire northern perimeter had been secured.
He turned and saw the flashlights moving between the trees.
“Stop! Federal agents!”
Wallace raised his hands.
But his other hand moved toward the inside pocket of his jacket.
An agent shouted.
“Don't move!”
Wallace froze.
A second agent approached and removed a small pistol from his jacket.
They placed him in handcuffs.
For the first time in eleven years, Peter Wallace was no longer the man controlling the situation.
He was a suspect standing in the mud, surrounded by people who had finally found the evidence he had spent years trying to destroy.
Victoria approached him.
“Peter Wallace.”
He looked at her.
“Director Bennett.”
“You know who I am.”
“I've known who you are since you were a child.”
Victoria stopped.
“What does that mean?”
Wallace smiled faintly.
“Your father talked about you. He was very proud.”
“Don't pretend you knew him.”
“I knew him better than you think.”
“You followed him. You threatened him. You helped make his death look like an accident.”
Wallace's expression changed.
“That's a serious accusation.”
“We found your records.”
“Records can be fabricated.”
“We found your handwriting in a notebook recovered from this property. We found the original authorization agreement. We found the recording my father made before he died.”
Wallace looked away.
Victoria stepped closer.
“Who ordered you to follow him?”
He remained silent.
“Was it Harlan?”
No response.
“Was it Donovan?”
Wallace finally looked at her.
“You think this is about one man?”
Victoria said nothing.
Wallace leaned closer, his voice low.
“Your father discovered something much bigger than stolen money. He found out that the people controlling the investigation were also controlling the evidence. They could decide which crimes were investigated, which witnesses were believed, and which reports disappeared.”
“And you helped them.”
“I was paid to do a job.”
“You were paid to destroy lives.”
Wallace gave a bitter laugh.
“You don't understand how this world works.”
Victoria's expression hardened.
“I understand exactly how it works. Men like you convince themselves that money makes them untouchable. Then they discover that evidence has a longer memory than they do.”
Wallace was led toward the vehicle.
Before he entered, he turned back.
“You should ask Harlan about the night your father died.”
Victoria froze.
“What about it?”
Wallace smiled.
“He wasn't supposed to be alone.”
The agents pushed him into the vehicle.
Victoria remained standing in the rain.
Sarah approached.
“What did he mean?”
Victoria looked toward the dark building.
“I don't know.”
But she had a terrible feeling that the story of her father's death was still more complicated than she had imagined.
At the federal facility, Ryan was waiting when James Mitchell arrived.
The moment he saw his father step through the entrance, he ran toward him.
“Dad!”
James embraced him.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Ryan held his father tightly, as if he were afraid that letting go would make him disappear again.
“I thought I'd lost you,” Ryan whispered.
James placed a hand on the back of his son's head.
“I'm here.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't apologize for telling the truth.”
Ryan stepped back.
“Did they hurt you?”
“Not badly.”
Victoria approached.
“James, we need to get you examined. After that, we'll take your statement.”
James nodded.
“There is something I need to tell you first.”
Victoria waited.
“Wallace asked me about the foundation payment. He showed me the record with my name.”
“We found it too.”
“I never received that money. But I remember something from years ago. A man came to my house and asked me to sign a document confirming that I had received assistance.”