Chapter 4 - THE NAME I BURIED
I had not seen that photograph in twenty years.
Because I thought it was destroyed.
My father disappeared when I was eighteen.
The police called it an accident.
A boating accident.
No body was recovered.
No investigation continued.
Everyone moved on.
Except me.
I became a detective because I never believed the official story.
But after twenty years…
I stopped searching.
I convinced myself some answers were impossible.
Now someone was dragging my past back into the light.
I took the photograph home.
I studied every detail.
The location.
The date.
The person standing beside my father.
Then I noticed something.
A symbol.
Small.
Almost invisible.
Printed on my father's jacket.
A black circle with a line through it.
I recognized it.
Because I had seen it before.
On evidence photos from the Voss murders.
My father's disappearance.
Elias Voss.
The missing file.
They were connected.
My phone vibrated.
A new message.
“Your father knew.”
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
“He tried to warn you.”
Then a third.
“You ignored him.”
I felt anger replacing fear.
I grabbed my jacket.
I needed answers.
I drove to the old neighborhood where my father lived.
The house had been abandoned for years.
The windows were broken.
The yard was overgrown.
But someone had recently been there.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, everything was covered in dust.
Except one room.
The basement.
The stairs creaked as I walked down.
At the bottom was a locked metal box.
My name was written on it.
I opened it.
Inside were dozens of documents.
Photos.
Reports.
Notes.
All connected to the Voss investigation.
But the dates shocked me.
Some files were created years before the first murder.
Meaning someone knew.
Someone knew Elias Voss would become a killer.
Before he killed anyone.
I found one final document.
A handwritten letter.
From my father.
The first sentence destroyed me.
“James, if you are reading this, they already know you found the truth.”
I kept reading.
“They chose Elias because they needed a monster.”
My hands shook.
“They needed someone the city would hate.”
“They needed someone everyone would believe was guilty.”
Then the final line.
The line that changed everything.
“Your captain was never hunting Elias Voss.”
“He was controlling him.”
The basement lights suddenly went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
I reached for my gun.
Then I heard footsteps.
Above me.
Someone was inside the house.
Someone had followed me.
A voice came from the stairs.
“Your father was always too curious.”
I froze.
Because I knew that voice.
Captain Robert Hayes.
He stepped into the basement.
Holding a gun.
But he was not alone.
Behind him stood another figure.
A man I thought was dead.
May you like
A man whose face had appeared on my ceiling.
Elias Voss.
