Chapter 6 - Footsteps Upstairs

Darius switched off the garage light. Evelyn pulled me behind the old pickup my father had refused to sell.

Footsteps crossed the living room. Drawers opened. Glass shattered.

“Police?” I whispered.

“Not yet,” Darius said. “First we need an address and a description.”

He called 911, speaking calmly while I gripped the blue box. A shadow appeared through the frosted garage window. Then the back door rattled.

“Whoever you are,” Evelyn called, “the police are coming.”

The footsteps stopped. A man's voice answered, “I'm only here for the notebook.”

My stomach dropped. He knew exactly what we had found.

Darius kept talking to dispatch. The garage door lifted six inches. Someone tried to crawl beneath it, but headlights swept the driveway as a patrol car arrived. The door slammed down. A figure ran through the yard.

Officers searched the property and found a black glove caught on the fence. They took our statements and advised us to keep the documents secure. One officer recognized Darius from the foundation's neighborhood patrol program and asked why he had stopped working there.

“Because I reported a breach,” Darius said. “And the wrong person saw the report.”

At Evelyn's kitchen, we copied the flash drives onto an offline laptop. One contained invoices. The other held scans of forms from the foundation's home-visit program: applications from low-income families requesting emergency housing assistance.

Many included children's names, school addresses, and signatures. Several were marked APPROVED despite notes saying no support had been delivered.

Then we found payment entries to a company called Harbor Point Solutions.

“Victor's consulting firm,” Evelyn said.

“No,” I said, examining the registration number. “The company was dissolved three years ago.”

A new folder opened on the screen: PARTICIPANT RELEASES.

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Each document authorized photographs and personal information to be used for fundraising. One release carried the name of a little boy, nine-year-old Jonah Price. His mother had written across the margin in blue pen: I NEVER AGREED TO THIS.

And beside that note was a second signature, this one pretending to be hers.