She listened without interruption.
When he finished, she said, “I'm going to need Leo's statement documented by a trained interviewer. We should not keep questioning him ourselves.”
“Agreed.”
“I've also received a preliminary report from the utility. The monitoring fault originated in a communications cabinet that should have been locked.”
“Was it locked?”
“The cabinet was found closed, but the access log shows a credential associated with a Northstar contractor.”
“Who?”
“The record is incomplete.”
“Can you identify the contractor?”
“Not yet.”
Riker looked at the paper.
“The missing engineer may have the original records.”
“That is a possibility.”
“And someone at the factory believes he hid them where the water couldn't reach.”
The sheriff was silent for a moment.
“Riker, I have a team checking the Hargrove residence and another working with the utility to secure the facility. I will not send officers into a reservoir system based on a metaphor. But I will make sure the technical people know exactly what the witness reported.”
“That's all I ask.”
“No, it's not.”
Riker waited.
“You want me to move faster.”
He did not deny it.
The sheriff continued.
“So do I. But if this is a coordinated attempt to provoke a confrontation, every unnecessary movement creates another opportunity for someone to get hurt. We will act on what we can verify.”
Riker looked toward the window.
Outside, more motorcycles were arriving.
He could hear them now as a continuous rumble.
Eight hundred engines.
An entire brotherhood.
A city beginning to panic.
And a secret that someone had decided was worth risking everything to protect.
“Then let's make sure the evidence survives long enough to be verified,” Riker said.
The sheriff ended the call.
Riker folded Leo's drawing and placed it beside the original notes.
Two pieces of paper.
One written by a child who had never expected to become part of a criminal investigation.
The other drawn by that same child after he realized the adults around him were lying.
Together, they pointed toward a secret that had been buried beneath municipal contracts, abandoned factories, and a project whose true purpose remained unknown.
Riker looked at the clock.
8:23 p.m.
Night had settled over Tulain Mountain.
The first police vehicles were moving toward the industrial district.
The mayor was preparing another statement.
The utility was securing its facilities.
The sheriff was building a case.
And somewhere beyond the railway bridge, Leo's mother was waiting for someone to find her.
Riker picked up his helmet.
Moose stepped forward.
“Where are you going?”
“To the clubhouse office.”
“You just came from there.”
“I need a quiet room and a telephone.”
Moose frowned.
“What are you planning?”
Riker looked at the drawing of the lantern symbol.
“I'm going to call the one person who might know why Derek Voss turned against us.”
“Who?”
“Daniel Hargrove.”
Moose stared at him.
“We don't know where he is.”
“No. But somebody does.”
Riker opened his contacts and searched for an old number saved years earlier, after a community meeting about the reservoir.
The number belonged to a municipal engineering office.
He dialed.
It rang four times.
Then a recorded message announced that the office was closed.
Riker tried the emergency contact listed on the public infrastructure report.
Another recorded message.
He tried a third number, this one associated with a professional engineering organization.
A receptionist answered.
Riker identified himself and explained that he was attempting to contact Daniel Hargrove regarding an urgent public-safety concern.
The receptionist asked him to hold.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then a man's voice came on the line.
“This is Hargrove.”
Riker sat down.
“Mr. Hargrove, my name is Riker Cross. I believe you're connected to Project Lantern.”
Silence.
Then Hargrove spoke.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“A nine-year-old boy overheard a meeting at the abandoned factory.”
Another pause.
“Is the boy safe?”
“Yes.”
“Is his mother safe?”
Riker hesitated.
“We're trying to find her.”
Hargrove exhaled sharply.
“Then they have already started.”
“Started what?”
“The transfer.”
Riker leaned forward.
“What is Project Lantern?”
Hargrove's voice dropped to a whisper.
“It's a plan to make the city believe an infrastructure failure was caused by a criminal attack. The attack is supposed to justify emergency access to the reservoir, and the emergency access is supposed to conceal the destruction of the original records.”
Riker felt his pulse quicken.
“What records?”
“The real power-system plans. The inspection reports. The evidence that the emergency generator was never installed according to the approved specifications.”
“Why would anyone falsify those records?”
“Because the original contract was worth far less than the amount the city paid. Because the equipment they claimed to install was never delivered. Because the safety certificates were signed using my name after I resigned.”
Riker stared at the wall.
“Who is responsible?”
Hargrove did not answer immediately.
Then he said, “You already know some of the names.”
“Derek Voss.”
“Yes.”
“Martin Vale.”
“Yes.”
“Mayor Sterling?”
A long silence followed.
Then Hargrove said, “The mayor approved the emergency access order. Whether he understood the full plan is something I cannot prove.”
Riker appreciated the distinction.
“What about Leo's mother?”
“I don't know where she is.”
“Her partner is connected to Voss Industrial Logistics.”
“Then she may have seen something. Or they may believe she knows where the original key is.”
“What key?”
“The encryption key for the original project archive. It was stored separately from the municipal system because the files contained sensitive infrastructure information. When I discovered the falsified records, I copied the relevant documents and secured the key. Without it, the archive cannot be authenticated.”
“Where is it?”
Hargrove hesitated.
“I can't tell you over the telephone.”
“Then tell me where we can meet.”
“No.”
Riker's expression hardened.
“Mr. Hargrove, if you have evidence of a plan to compromise critical infrastructure, people could be in danger right now.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you refusing to help?”
“Because the last person I trusted with that information disappeared.”
Riker understood.
“Who?”
“My assistant. Maria Montgomery.”
Riker went completely still.
“Leo's mother?”
“Yes.”
The room seemed to tilt around him.
Hargrove continued, his voice breaking slightly.
“She discovered that someone had been using my credentials after I resigned. She helped me preserve the original records. Two days later, she told me she was afraid her partner had discovered what she was doing. I told her to take the files and leave the city.”
Riker gripped the edge of the desk.
“Did she?”
“I don't know. She never arrived at the place where we were supposed to meet.”
“Why didn't you report it?”
“I did. The report disappeared. The officer who took it later told me there was no record of our conversation.”
Riker closed his eyes briefly.
The conspiracy was no longer a chain of suspicious details.
It was a coherent account of falsified infrastructure records, compromised access systems, missing evidence, and a woman who might have been taken because she possessed information someone desperately needed.
“Mr. Hargrove, I need you to listen carefully,” Riker said. “Maria's son is safe. He is with people who will not hand him over to Darren Montgomery or anyone claiming to represent him. Sheriff Brooks is investigating the disappearance. If you have evidence, she needs to know where it is.”
“I have the archive.”
“Where?”
“Not where you think.”
Riker waited.
Hargrove continued.
“The original key is hidden in a place connected to the old flood-control system. Maria chose it because nobody would think to look there unless they knew the original design.”
“Where?”
“The west service chamber beneath the railway bridge.”
Riker looked toward the map.
The chamber was part of the old drainage system. It had been sealed years earlier after a structural inspection revealed corrosion in the access ladder.
“Is the chamber safe?”