Chapter 8: Twenty-One Years Earlier
Chapter 8: Twenty-One Years Earlier
Nathan read the first page twice before he believed it.
State Investigation Memorandum
Subject: Victor Sloan
Date: Twenty-one years earlier
The report stated that Victor Sloan had been stopped by a state trooper on a county road less than two miles from the Reed logging site on the morning Nathan's father died.
Reason for the stop:
A broken taillight.
Nathan frowned.
He continued reading.
Victor claimed he had been "passing through the area on business."
The trooper noted mud covering the tires of Victor's black sedan and fresh scratches along the driver's side door.
The report ended with one sentence.
"No evidence connecting the subject to the logging accident at this time."
Nathan slowly closed the file.
It wasn't proof.
But it was enough to convince him that his father's death deserved another look.
"Mr. Reed?"
Nathan looked up.
The county archivist stood beside his table.
"You've been reading that file for nearly an hour."
Nathan nodded.
"I have a question."
"Of course."
"Why was Victor Sloan's report stored with my father's accident records?"
The woman frowned.
"It shouldn't have been."
"What do you mean?"
"Those files belong in different collections."
Nathan looked at the folder again.
"So someone placed it there."
"Apparently."
Nathan's mind raced.
Had someone wanted the report to be found...
Or hidden?
Before leaving, Nathan requested one more file.
The original coroner's report.
The archivist returned carrying a thin envelope.
"This is everything we have."
Nathan carefully unfolded the report.
Cause of death:
Massive chest trauma caused by a falling log.
Nothing unusual.
Then he noticed something handwritten in the margin.
"Bruising inconsistent with primary impact."
Nathan looked closer.
The sentence had been crossed out with black ink.
Someone had intentionally covered it.
He held the page toward the light.
The words remained visible beneath the ink.
Bruising inconsistent with primary impact.
Nathan's heartbeat quickened.
His father may have been injured before the log struck him.
Outside the courthouse, Nathan immediately called Deputy Collins.
"I need to see you."
"What's wrong?"
"I think my father's accident may have been staged."
Silence filled the line.
"Come to my office."
Deputy Collins spread the old records across his desk.
He read each page carefully.
Finally, he looked up.
"This is... unusual."
Nathan pointed to the crossed-out note.
"What does that tell you?"
"It tells me the medical examiner noticed injuries that didn't match the official explanation."
"Can we reopen the case?"
Collins hesitated.
"A prosecutor would need probable cause."
Nathan nodded.
"Then let's find it."
Collins leaned back in his chair.
"I checked on Victor Sloan after we spoke yesterday."
Nathan waited.
"He bought property outside town about sixteen months ago."
"Where?"
The deputy unfolded a county map.
Nathan stared.
Victor's land bordered...
The north edge of the Reed farm.
Nathan looked up sharply.
"He bought the neighboring property?"
Collins nodded.
"And here's the strange part."
He slid over another document.
Victor had paid nearly five times the market value.
Nathan laughed bitterly.
"No farmer pays that much."
"Exactly."
"So he wasn't buying farmland."
Collins folded his arms.
"He was buying access."
Nathan drove to the property that afternoon.
A newly installed steel gate blocked the entrance.
A sign read:
PRIVATE PROPERTY
NO TRESPASSING
Beyond the gate stood several storage buildings and drilling equipment covered with tarps.
Nathan frowned.
Drilling equipment?
From the road, it looked inactive.
But the tire tracks in the dirt were fresh.
Someone had been there recently.
He raised his camera and began taking photographs.
Suddenly, a voice called out.
"Taking pictures without permission?"
Nathan turned.
A security guard approached.
"I'm standing on a public road."
The guard stopped a few feet away.
"You should leave."
Nathan lowered the camera.
"What are you drilling for?"
The guard smiled.
"Soil samples."
Nathan looked toward the equipment.
"Seems like a lot of machinery for soil samples."
"No comment."
Nathan nodded politely.
"I'll be going."
As he returned to his truck, he noticed something unusual.
Several shipping crates sat behind one of the buildings.
Each carried the same company logo.
Horizon Valley Development.
Richard Holloway hadn't been bluffing.
The company was already preparing for something.
That evening, Nathan met Mr. Whitaker at the fishing pond again.
The old man carried another envelope.
"I found these in my attic."
Nathan opened it.
Inside were faded photographs taken more than twenty years earlier.
Most showed ordinary farm life.
Then one picture caught his attention.
It showed Nathan's father standing beside the old oak tree.
With him stood another man wearing a suit.
Nathan's eyes widened.
"Do you know who this is?"
Whitaker nodded.
"His name was Samuel Brooks."
"What did he do?"
"He worked for the state geological survey."
Nathan immediately remembered the maps hidden inside the cedar box.
"He surveyed the land."
Whitaker nodded.
"He came out here several times."
Nathan turned the photograph over.
Written on the back was a date.
Just three weeks before Nathan's father died.
"What happened to him?"
Whitaker's expression darkened.
"He disappeared."
Nathan looked up.
"Disappeared?"
"Packed up one day."
"And?"
"Nobody ever heard from him again."
Back at Emily's farmhouse, Nathan spread the newest evidence across the dining table.
June quietly watched him.
"You look like your father."
Nathan smiled faintly.
"Stubborn?"
She laughed softly.
"Exactly."
Nathan held up the photograph of Samuel Brooks.
"Do you recognize him?"
June studied it.
Her smile vanished.
"Yes."
"He came to dinner once."
"What did he talk about?"
"The land."
Nathan waited.
"He said your father had to keep certain papers safe."
Nathan leaned closer.
"What papers?"
"I don't remember."
She closed her eyes.
"Wait..."
Nathan stayed silent.
"There was a number."
"What number?"
She whispered,
"Parcel Seven."
Nathan frowned.
"What is Parcel Seven?"
"I don't know."
"But your father said..."
She struggled to remember.
"...'If anything happens to me, never let them have Parcel Seven.'"
Nathan immediately unfolded the geological survey.
Every section of the Reed farm carried a parcel number.
He searched quickly.
Parcel One.
Parcel Two.
Parcel Three.
Then...
Parcel Seven.
It wasn't the north field.
Nathan stared in disbelief.
Parcel Seven was a narrow strip of land running along the eastern creek.
The anonymous note had been right.
You're looking in the wrong field.
The north field had always been the distraction.
Whatever his father had truly been protecting...
...was somewhere else.
Just then, Nathan's phone buzzed.
Deputy Collins.
"Nathan."
"What is it?"
"We found Victor Sloan."
Nathan stood.
"Where?"
"Dead."
Nathan's heart stopped.
"What happened?"
Collins' voice was grim.
"His truck was found at the bottom of Miller's Quarry."
"Accident?"
"There are no skid marks."
Nathan closed his eyes.
"So someone wanted him silenced."
Collins took a slow breath.
"It gets worse."
Nathan waited.
"The medical examiner estimates he died about six hours ago."
Nathan glanced at the photograph that had been slipped under Emily's door the previous evening.
Victor had been alive when someone warned Nathan to stop searching.
Now the one man who could explain the forged deed...
May you like
Was dead.
And whoever had orchestrated everything had just erased the most dangerous witness of all.
