Victor turned toward him.
"Caleb?"
The boy was staring at the door.
His face had gone white.
He was shaking so violently that the cup of hot chocolate slipped from his hands and shattered against the floor.
"It's him," Caleb whispered.
Victor moved between the boy and the entrance.
"Who?"
Caleb's lips trembled.
"Raymond."
The man outside knocked again.
"Victor! We know he's in there. This doesn't need to become a problem."
Victor's expression was unreadable.
He had spent decades learning that the most dangerous men were rarely the ones who shouted the loudest.
Sometimes they were the men who arrived smiling, carrying official documents, and expecting everyone else to step aside.
Victor looked at Mason.
Mason nodded once.
Then Victor called through the door.
"Detective Price, if that's really you, tell me what color your patrol car is."
Silence.
A long, terrible silence.
Then the voice answered.
"Open the door, Victor."
Victor stepped away from the entrance.
"That's not Detective Price."
The next sound was a heavy impact against the door.
The men inside sprang into motion.
Bear ushered Caleb toward the rear hallway. Mason pulled a table away from the entrance while two other members moved to secure the windows.
Another impact shook the doorframe.
Then a man's voice shouted from outside.
"Last chance, Hale!"
Victor stood in the center of the room, his eyes fixed on the entrance.
"No," he said quietly. "Your last chance was when you decided to frighten a child."
The third impact splintered the door's outer frame.
But before the men outside could force their way in, a siren rose from the road.
Blue lights flashed across the rain-soaked windows.
The pounding stopped.
Someone outside swore.
A vehicle screeched away from the gate.
Victor moved to the window and watched headlights disappear down Miller Road.
Seconds later, a genuine patrol car pulled into the parking area.
Two uniformed officers stepped out.
One of them approached the entrance, his hand resting near his belt.
"Victor Hale?"
Victor opened the door just enough to speak.
"Detective Price?"
"Detective Price is on his way. I'm Deputy Collins."
Victor studied the man's badge, uniform, and identification.
Then he opened the door fully.
Collins stepped inside and surveyed the damaged entrance, the frightened men, and the shattered cup on the floor.
"What happened here?"
Victor looked at Caleb.
The boy stood near the hallway, clutching the oversized sweatshirt around his body.
For a moment, Victor considered telling the deputy everything.
Then he remembered Daniel's letter.
Do not trust anyone who says I abandoned my family.
He also remembered the men who had come to the door pretending to be law enforcement.
Whatever was happening in Blackridge, someone had already gone to considerable trouble to make sure Caleb disappeared.
Victor turned back to Collins.
"That's what we're trying to find out."
The deputy followed his gaze.
"Is that Caleb Morgan?"
"Yes."
Collins approached slowly, lowering himself to the boy's eye level.
"Hey, Caleb. I'm Deputy Collins. You're not in trouble. I just need to ask you a few questions."
Caleb looked at Victor.
Victor gave him a small nod.
The deputy noticed.
"Would you rather talk somewhere quieter?"
Caleb hesitated.
Then he whispered, "Can Victor come with me?"
Collins considered the request.
"That's fine."
They moved into a small office at the rear of the clubhouse.
The room contained a desk, two filing cabinets, and a framed photograph of the Iron Wolves standing beside a wrecked pickup truck after a winter storm. Victor closed the door but left it slightly open.
Collins sat across from Caleb.
"Your mother says you left home without permission. Is that true?"
Caleb nodded.
"Why did you leave?"
The boy looked at his hands.
"Because I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Raymond."
Collins wrote something in his notebook.
"Did Raymond hurt you?"
Caleb nodded again.
"Can you tell me how?"
The boy's eyes filled with tears.
"He grabbed me and pushed me into the wall. He said he knew I had the key. He wanted to know where I put it."
Collins paused.
"What key?"
Caleb looked at Victor.
Victor remained silent.
After a moment, Caleb answered.
"My father's."
"Your father left you a key?"
"Yes."
"Do you know what it opens?"
Caleb shook his head.
Collins made another note.
"Did your mother know Raymond had hurt you?"
"Yes."
"Did she try to stop him?"
Caleb's silence stretched so long that Collins finally lowered his pen.
"Caleb?"
"My mother was crying."
The deputy's expression softened.
"Was she crying because Raymond hurt you?"
"I think so."
"Did she tell you to leave?"
Caleb hesitated.
Then he said something that made Victor's stomach tighten.
"She told me to find the wolves."
Collins looked up.
"What?"
Caleb began to cry again.
"She said if Raymond found the key, everything would be over. She told me that if I couldn't trust anyone else, I should find the Iron Wolves and give Victor the envelope."
Victor stared at the boy.
For the first time since Caleb had arrived, the pieces of the mystery began to form a recognizable shape.
Laura Morgan had not simply been hiding the truth from her son.
She had been trying to protect him from it.
And somewhere along the way, she had realized that she could no longer protect him alone.
Collins closed his notebook.
"All right. I think we need to speak with your mother."
Victor shook his head.
"Not until we know where she is."
Collins frowned.
"She's the one who reported him missing."
"Then why did someone pretending to be you try to break down my door?"
The deputy's expression changed.
"What?"
Victor described the incident, including the damaged entrance, the power outage, and the men who had demanded that Caleb be handed over.
Collins immediately called his dispatcher.
Within seconds, his face had grown grave.
He ended the call.
"There's no patrol unit assigned to this address except mine. Detective Price is still at the station."
Victor folded his arms.
"Then someone has a serious problem."
Collins looked toward Caleb.
"Can you describe the man who spoke outside?"
Caleb nodded slowly.
"His voice was deep. He sounded angry."
"Did you recognize anything else?"
The boy swallowed.
"He wears a silver ring."
Collins leaned forward.
"What kind of ring?"
"Big. With a black stone."
Victor closed his eyes briefly.
He knew that ring.
He had seen it at a county fundraiser, on the hand of a man who had shaken his hand and smiled for the cameras.