Chapter 5 - THE MAN IN THE DESERT
Robert Haines had handled my father’s business finances for twenty-three years.
He was also one of the names on the files I had copied.
Deputy Martinez separated everyone.
No one left.
No one touched a phone.
No one returned to either vehicle.
Dad objected.
Mom cried.
Ray smoked three cigarettes in twelve minutes.
I sat inside the cruiser with Noah wrapped in two blankets while the heater blasted.
He leaned against me.
“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Did Grandma want us to die?”
The question hit harder than anything my parents had done.
I looked down at him.
Six years old.
Freckles.
Messy brown hair.
One front tooth missing.
He should have been worrying about cartoons.
Not whether his grandparents had tried to kill him.
“I don’t know what Grandma wanted.”
“You always tell me not to lie.”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Then don’t.”
I closed my eyes.
“I think Grandma knew leaving us was dangerous.”
Noah nodded slowly.
Then whispered, “I don’t want to see her.”
“You don’t have to.”
Outside, another cruiser arrived.
Then an ambulance.
The deputies had found tire marks near Robert Haines’s sedan.
Fresh ones.
Large SUV tires.
Dad’s vehicle had matching tread.
Walter demanded an attorney.
Diane stopped crying.
That was interesting.
People reveal themselves when the performance stops working.
Deputy Martinez returned.
“Ms. Bennett?”
“Yes?”
“We’re taking you and your son to the hospital in Pahrump.”
“Why?”
“Exposure. Your son’s asthma. And because I’d rather have him checked.”
“What about my parents?”
“They’re staying here.”
I looked through the window.
Walter was speaking to another deputy.
Diane stared directly at me.
Her face had gone completely blank.
“Am I under arrest?”
“No.”
“Am I being detained?”
“Not currently.”
“Then I want my backpack and everything recovered from the road.”
“We’ll collect it as evidence.”
My stomach tightened.
The USB.
If the police found it, good.
If my father had already taken it, bad.
“Deputy.”
“Yes?”
“There may be a storage device in my belongings.”
His expression sharpened.
“What’s on it?”
“Evidence of financial crimes.”
“Against who?”
I looked toward my parents.
“My father.”
Martinez stared at me for a long second.
Then nodded.
“I’ll note it.”
The ambulance took us south.
Noah fell asleep almost immediately.
I borrowed a paramedic’s charger.
My phone came alive at eleven percent.
Forty-seven missed calls.
Most from my parents.
Three from an unknown Nevada number.
Six from my commanding officer, Colonel James Avery.
One voicemail.
I played it quietly.
“Claire, it’s Avery. Call me immediately. Two federal investigators came looking for you this afternoon regarding Bennett Strategic Logistics. They’re asking about contracts signed under your credentials. Do not speak to anyone connected with your father’s company until we talk.”
My stomach turned.
Bennett Strategic Logistics.
Dad’s company.
Government transportation contracts.
I had never worked for it.
Never signed anything for it.
Never authorized my military information to be used.
I called Avery.
He answered on the first ring.
“Claire?”
“Sir.”
“Where are you?”
“Ambulance outside Pahrump.”
Silence.
“Explain.”
I did.
Not everything.
Just enough.
When I finished, Avery swore quietly.
“Listen carefully. The investigators weren’t asking if your father used your information.”
I looked at Noah.
“What were they asking?”
“They wanted to know whether you helped him.”
My mouth went dry.
“Helped him do what?”
Avery paused.
Then said, “Steal almost eleven million dollars from the Department of Defense.”
Before I could respond, the ambulance slowed.
The driver said something to the paramedic.
“What?”
He looked through the rear window.
“We have a vehicle following us.”
I twisted around.
A black SUV was three cars behind us.
Not my father’s.
Avery was still on the phone.
“Claire?”
The SUV moved closer.
Then its headlights flashed twice.
The paramedic frowned.
“Do you know them?”
I stared at the dark windshield.
May you like
“No.”
Then the SUV accelerated.
