Chapter 6 - The Missing Witness
Naomi called the police department in Allison’s city immediately.
Nobody could reach her.
Officers arrived at her house twenty-two minutes later.
The front door was open.
A kitchen chair had been knocked over.
Allison’s phone lay shattered near the stairs.
But Allison was gone.
There was no blood.
No obvious sign of a struggle.
Her car was still in the garage.
Naomi did not call it an abduction.
Not yet.
But nobody in the room believed Allison had simply decided to take a walk.
Connor’s phone went straight to voicemail.
Brenda’s did too.
Elaine answered hers.
Naomi placed the call on speaker.
“Mrs. Ward, this is Investigator Reyes.”
Elaine sounded bored.
“How can I help you?”
“Have you spoken with your daughter Allison today?”
“No.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“No.”
“Your son advised her to leave the country.”
A pause.
Barely one second.
But enough.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Naomi’s eyes met mine.
“Mrs. Ward, do not contact any witnesses connected to the Apex investigation.”
Elaine laughed softly.
“Investigator, I am seventy-one years old.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re making my family sound like criminals.”
“No.”
Naomi’s voice became colder.
“The evidence is doing that.”
Elaine hung up.
Marcus exhaled.
“She’s the one Connor is afraid of.”
I looked at him.
“Elaine?”
“He argues with Brenda.”
Marcus shook his head.
“He obeys Elaine.”
That sentence stayed with me.
For years, Connor had mocked his mother privately.
Called her dramatic.
Manipulative.
Old-fashioned.
Yet whenever Elaine demanded something, he did it.
Christmas at her house.
Investments she wanted.
Vacations she chose.
Even our wedding guest list.
I had mistaken resentment for independence.
Maybe Connor had never escaped her control.
Maybe he never wanted to.
Naomi received another update.
Allison’s neighbors had security cameras.
At 10:16 that morning, a dark SUV stopped near her driveway.
A man entered her house.
Seven minutes later, Allison came outside.
She was walking on her own.
But the man kept one hand on her elbow.
They left together.
The license plate had been covered.
“Can we identify him?”
I asked.
“Maybe.”
Naomi enlarged a still image.
The man wore a baseball cap.
Broad shoulders.
Dark jacket.
I did not recognize him.
Marcus did.
He leaned closer.
“That’s him.”
“Who?”
“The man who hit me.”
Naomi turned.
“When?”
“The night Connor caught me copying files.”
My stomach tightened.
“So Connor has someone doing intimidation for him.”
Marcus shook his head.
“I never saw Connor speak to him.”
“Who did?”
Marcus looked at me.
“Elaine.”
Before anyone could respond, the forensic examiner returned.
He carried a printout from Connor’s seized laptop.
“We found something in deleted email fragments.”
He handed it to Naomi.
There were no names.
Only initials.
CW.
BW.
EW.
And one unfamiliar set.
RH.
The messages discussed “removing the doctor,” “recovering Drive C,” and “completing the Claire transfer before Friday.”
Naomi looked at the timestamp.
The final message had been sent only four hours before the restaurant dinner.
She pointed at RH.
“Marcus, any idea?”
He shook his head.
I was about to do the same.
Then I remembered something.
Apex had once used an outside security consultant.
Connor hired him without board approval.
A former police officer.
A man I had met only twice.
His name was Raymond Hale.
May you like
RH.
And according to Connor, Raymond Hale had died nine months earlier.
