Chapter 4
I sat in my car, the journals spread across the passenger seat.
The first one was dated nine years ago.
Just weeks before Daniel disappeared.
I opened it and started reading.
---
April 12
I've been working this case for three months now.
Kids disappearing from the foster system.
Women being brought in from out of state.
No one seems to care.
No one except me.
I've traced the pattern to a man named Marcus Webb.
He owns several "legitimate" businesses around town.
But everyone knows what he really does.
The problem is, no one will talk.
The police won't help.
I think some of them might even be on his payroll.
Jake would know what to do.
He's always been the brave one.
The one who stands up to people.
I'm just a social worker.
But someone has to do something.
These kids don't have anyone else.
---
April 27
I got too close today.
Webb's men followed me home.
They sat outside my apartment for three hours.
I'm scared.
But I can't stop now.
I've got names.
I've got dates.
I've got proof of at least a dozen transfers.
If I can just get this to the right people...
But who are the right people?
I can't trust the police.
Not when half of them are working for Webb.
Maybe Jake.
But I don't want to put him in danger.
He just made detective.
He has his whole career ahead of him.
I can't drag him into this.
---
May 5
They know.
Webb called me today.
He told me to stop asking questions.
He told me accidents happen.
I'm not going to stop.
But I need to be careful.
I'm going to start hiding the journals.
Different locations.
Just in case.
If something happens to me, someone needs to find these.
Someone needs to make them pay.
---
May 14
This is my last entry for a while.
I think they're going to make a move soon.
I've hidden the bulk of the evidence at the old farm on Route 31.
The one Webb bought through that shell company.
Ironic, isn't it?
Hiding his own crimes right under his nose.
If you're reading this, please find Jake Marlow.
He's a police officer.
He'll know what to do.
Tell him I'm sorry.
Tell him I should have come to him sooner.
---
The last entry was dated the day Daniel disappeared.
I closed the journal, my hands shaking with rage.
My brother had been so close.
So close to taking them down.
And they had taken him.
Locked him away for nine years.
But he hadn't given up.
He had kept writing.
Kept documenting.
Kept fighting.
"Jake?"
Sarah was standing outside my car window.
"You okay?"
I held up the journal.
"He documented everything. The whole operation. Names, dates, locations. Everything we need to take them down."
Sarah's eyes widened.
"Really?"
"Really. But Sarah—he mentioned something about police officers on their payroll. Politicians. This goes deep. We can't trust anyone right now. Not even people in our own department."
She nodded slowly.
"I had a feeling. Some of the cases we've worked... things that didn't add up. Evidence that went missing. Witnesses who changed their stories."
She leaned against the car.
"So what do we do?"
"We go through these journals. Every single page. We build the case. But we keep it quiet. Between us and a few people we absolutely trust. Until we have enough to bring in the FBI."
"The FBI?"
"Local police can't handle this. Not if it goes as high as Daniel says it does. We need outside help. People who can't be bought."
Sarah was quiet for a moment.
"Okay. But we need to move fast. If Webb and Ryan know we found the farm, they'll move Daniel again. Maybe even..."
She didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't have to.
I knew what she was thinking.
If they thought Daniel was a liability, they would kill him.
"We need to find them first," I said. "Before they decide to cut their losses."
I opened another journal.
This one was more recent.
The entries were shorter.
Written in a shakier hand.
Daniel had been writing while in captivity.
---
October 3
I don't know how long it's been.
Months. Maybe years.
They move me around.
Different basements. Different farms.
Always dark.
Always alone.
Except for the boy.
Evan.
He's eight years old.
His stepdad is one of Webb's men.
Ryan.
He's the worst of them.
Beats Evan for no reason.
Locks him in closets.
Evan sneaks down to see me sometimes.
He brings me food when he can.
We talk.
I tell him stories about Jake.
About being a cop.
About how people like us protect people like him.
He's a good kid.
Brave.
Braver than I was at his age.
I've been teaching him things.
What to do if he gets the chance to run.
Where to go.
Who to find.
If something happens to me, Evan is the only one who knows where to find Jake.
He's my only hope.
---
I closed the journal.
My heart was breaking.
Nine years.
My brother had spent nine years in hell.
And the only thing that had kept him going was the hope that I would find him.
That I would save him.
I couldn't let him down.
Not now.
Not when I was so close.
"We need to find Ryan's connection to Webb," I said. "If we can flip Ryan, get him to tell us where Daniel is..."
Sarah shook her head.
"Ryan's not talking. He lawyered up the second we put him in holding. He's not saying a word without his attorney present."
"Then we find another way. We go through Webb. We find his weaknesses. We find something we can use against him."
I looked at the journals.
"Daniel gave us everything we need. We just have to figure out how to use it."
Just then, Sarah's phone rang.
She answered it.
Her face went pale.
"What? When?"
She paused.
"Okay. We're on our way."
She hung up.
"Jake, there's been an incident at the station."
My blood ran cold.
May you like
"What kind of incident?"
"Ryan escaped."
