Chapter 13 - The Deputy Who Never Left
Nolan locked down the hospital.
Every visitor was checked.
Every camera was reviewed.
The flower delivery traced back to a grocery store three miles away. Paid cash. Fake name.
But the security video showed the buyer.
Sheriff Thomas Keene.
The man who had led the original investigation into Hannah’s disappearance nine years earlier.
The man who had told Lauren there were no credible leads.
The man who had personally comforted her at press conferences.
Nolan watched the footage twice.
Then she whispered, “Son of a bitch.”
Keene had been her boss for six years.
He was also the only person who knew Daniel’s transport route and had left the office ten minutes before the van was attacked.
Lauren felt something inside her settle.
Not fear.
Fury.
“Where is he?”
“We’re looking.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Nolan turned to Aaron.
“Did you know Keene was involved?”
“I suspected.”
“Why?”
“Marcus Lane told me someone higher up kept burying his reports.”
Hannah whispered, “Daniel used to say, ‘The sheriff owes me.’”
Michael frowned.
“For what?”
Aaron’s eyes narrowed.
“Money. Daniel’s construction company renovated Keene’s lake house for free.”
Nolan grabbed her phone.
“Get a warrant for Keene’s finances.”
Then the hospital lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the hallway.
Backup alarms started beeping.
Hannah gasped.
Lauren grabbed her hand.
“Stay with me.”
A crash sounded outside.
Then shouting.
Nolan drew her weapon.
“Lock the door.”
Michael moved toward it.
A shadow passed under the gap.
Someone tried the handle.
Once.
Twice.
Then a voice came from the hall.
“Sheriff’s department. Open up.”
Nolan’s face changed.
It was Keene.
Nobody moved.
He knocked again.
“Hannah, we need to relocate you. There’s been a security threat.”
Hannah began shaking.
Lauren whispered, “He’s here for you.”
Nolan pointed to the bathroom.
“Everybody except Michael, move.”
Lauren stared. “Why Michael?”
“Because he’s six-two and I need someone to block that door if Keene forces it.”
Michael nodded.
The handle jerked violently.
Then stopped.
Silence.
Nolan waited.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
A gunshot cracked from the hallway.
Someone screamed.
Nolan yanked open the door.
A hospital security guard lay bleeding near the nurses’ station.
Keene was gone.
But he had left something behind.
On the wall, written in black marker, were four words.
MILL CREEK. MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE.
And beneath them was a photograph of Noah.
May you like
Taken less than five minutes earlier.
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