Chapter 11 - The Man at Lake Geneva
There was an address attached to the protector amendment.
A cabin outside Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.
Margaret wanted to call federal investigators.
Emily wanted to drive.
They compromised by doing both.
Paul took Emily and Noah north while Margaret notified counsel and requested preservation orders on every Carter Construction server.
The cabin sat behind a stand of bare maple trees at the end of a gravel road.
No car.
No lights.
Emily knocked anyway.
Nothing.
Noah tried the side window. “Curtains moved.”
Paul put a hand near the holster under his coat. “Stay behind me.”
The door opened.
An old man stood there holding a shotgun pointed at the floor.
Emily did not recognize him.
Then he said her childhood nickname.
“Emmy-bird.”
Her knees nearly failed.
The man was thinner than Jonathan Hayes had been. Gray-haired. Scar across one cheek. But the eyes were the same.
Emily’s father lowered the shotgun.
She hit him.
The slap cracked through the doorway.
No one moved.
Then Emily hit him again, this time with both fists against his chest.
“You were dead!”
Jonathan let her.
“You were dead for twelve years!”
“I know.”
“You let me bury you!”
“I know.”
“You let Mom—”
His face changed.
“Is Susan alive?”
Emily stepped back.
“You don’t know?”
Jonathan gripped the doorframe.
“I haven’t contacted her since the program moved me.”
“What program?” Noah asked.
Jonathan looked at him.
Then at Paul.
“Come inside.”
For the next hour, Jonathan told them a story that sounded insane until Paul started matching it to old records.
Jonathan had uncovered money laundering through construction loans inside Vance & Hayes. Robert Carter helped him gather evidence. Before they could go public, someone tried to kill Jonathan during a flight arranged by the bank’s former chief operating officer.
Jonathan survived because he never boarded.
The plane crashed anyway.
A federal task force used the death story to hide him while they built a case.
“But the case disappeared,” Emily said.
Jonathan nodded.
“Because the evidence disappeared.”
“Who took it?”
He looked at Noah.
“Robert.”
Noah’s face hardened.
Jonathan continued. “He said he was protecting our families.”
“And was he?” Emily asked.
Jonathan’s answer came quietly.
“No. He was protecting his sons.”
Then headlights swept across the cabin windows.
Three black SUVs rolled into the driveway.
May you like
Jonathan reached for the shotgun.
“They found me.”
