Chapter 11 - WHAT OWEN KNEW
The woman’s name was Leah Voss. She had worked as Victor’s assistant and had taken the folder because he promised to protect her brother from Rourke.
Ellis did not believe every word. But Leah gave her something useful: a second location, an apartment above a closed pharmacy.
Police entered before dawn.
They found Owen Price lying on a narrow bed, weak but conscious. His wrists were bruised. A nurse hired under a false name had been treating him. Victor was gone.
At the hospital, Owen asked for his sister. Rachel reached him before Grant or Ellis could question him. She held his hand and cried so hard she could barely speak.
When Owen was ready, he told Ellis what had happened.
Three years earlier, he had found evidence that Victor was stealing from Rourke and hiding the theft in accounts Grant’s former company once used. Owen had tried to report it. Victor caught him outside the hotel and took him away.
“Why keep you alive?” Ellis asked.
“Because I knew where his money went,” Owen said. “He needed my passwords. Every time I refused, he told me Rourke would find my family.”
Victor had forged Claire’s statement to make it appear that she could identify Rourke as the man behind Owen’s disappearance. If Rourke discovered that document, Claire would become a target. Victor had then arranged for her to work at Grant’s estate, keeping her where he could watch her.
“And Lily?” Claire asked when Ellis relayed the account.
“Victor used the photos to pressure Grant,” Ellis said. “Rourke saw them too. Victor couldn’t control who knew about her after that.”
Grant went to the hospital to see Owen. He stopped at the doorway when Rachel saw him.
“My brother’s talking to the police,” she said. “You can come back later.”
Grant nodded and left. Owen had survived three years because people kept choosing their own safety over his. Grant would not ask him for anything now.
That afternoon, Ellis obtained warrants for Victor and Rourke. Officers searched Victor’s brother’s house and recovered bank records, phones, and a key to a storage unit.
Inside the unit were boxes of documents and a small crate lined with an old dog blanket.
Grant recognized the blanket. Atlas had slept on it as a puppy.
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Beside it was a veterinary record from seven years earlier. It documented Atlas’s fractured hip—and listed the person who had brought him in.
Victor Hale.
