Chapter 6 - Claire’s Second Video
Claire Morgan had recorded more than anyone realized.
The first video showed the arrest.
The second began eight minutes earlier.
“I forgot I started recording when I saw the cabin,” she explained.
Renata looked at her across a federal conference room.
“Why were you recording the cabin?”
“Because a black SUV nearly clipped me coming out of the service road.”
Claire looked slightly embarrassed.
“I was going to send the plate to my sister and complain about terrible drivers.”
Isaac said, “Did you get the plate?”
“Part of it.”
She opened the copied video.
Trees shook in wet wind.
Claire’s breathing could be heard as she jogged.
Then an SUV appeared in the distance.
Black Chevrolet Tahoe.
It exited the service road fast, turning toward Route 9.
The camera caught the rear for less than two seconds.
Partial plate.
7KJ.
Renata paused.
“Federal?”
“No government tags visible,” Isaac said.
Claire continued the video.
Three minutes later Renata’s sedan appeared.
Then Rock’s cruiser.
“Look,” Claire said.
She enlarged one frame.
Rock had been parked behind a stand of trees before activating his lights.
He had not simply happened upon Renata.
He had been waiting.
Renata folded her arms.
“He said he didn’t know who I was until he stopped me.”
“He may not have,” Isaac said. “But he knew someone was coming.”
Claire looked uneasy.
“There’s something else.”
She played the roadside confrontation again.
Wind muffled Rock’s phone conversation, but audio technicians had isolated parts of it.
Rock:
The Marshals are here.
Unidentified male voice through speaker leakage:
Which one?
Rock:
Woman. Callaway.
Then silence.
Renata’s skin prickled.
The voice responded.
Move him now.
Rock had repeated the instruction aloud.
The wording Claire originally heard as Rock’s statement had actually been an echo.
Isaac replayed it.
“Keene says ‘Move him now.’”
“So Rock wasn’t giving the order,” Renata said.
“No.”
Claire whispered, “Who’s him?”
They all knew the answer Rock had given.
Shepherd.
Isaac’s phone rang.
He stepped outside.
Claire watched him leave.
“You trust him?”
“With my life.”
“That sounded automatic.”
Renata looked at her.
Claire shrugged.
“I work in behavioral research.”
“You’re a psychologist?”
“University lecturer.”
“So you analyze strangers?”
“Mostly students who lie about reading assignments.”
Renata almost smiled.
Claire became serious.
“When somebody answers that quickly, sometimes it means the question scares them.”
Renata glanced through the glass.
Isaac was arguing quietly on the phone.
“Trust isn’t the absence of fear.”
“No.”
Claire capped her water bottle.
“But betrayal is impossible without trust.”
Isaac returned.
His expression had changed.
“Regional office just reviewed access records.”
Renata waited.
“The Boone surveillance operation was opened electronically at 2:11 yesterday morning.”
“By whom?”
Isaac stared at her.
“My credentials.”
Claire went silent.
Renata’s expression did not change.
Isaac continued.
“I was asleep.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes. Hotel security, room-key data, work phone location.”
“That proves where you were. Not what you did remotely.”
“I know.”
Claire quietly gathered her things.
“I should probably leave.”
Renata looked at her.
“You’re under protection until we know who saw that video.”
Claire nodded and followed a deputy outside.
When the door closed, Renata faced Isaac.
“Who else can use your credentials?”
“Nobody legally.”
“Illegally?”
“Anyone with the password and token.”
“Who had the token?”
“Me.”
“Where?”
“Hotel safe.”
“You checked it?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“No signs of entry.”
Renata paced once.
“What exactly was accessed?”
“Surveillance location. Team roster. Operational window.”
“My name?”
“Yes.”
That explained how Rock’s caller recognized Callaway.
Shepherd had known.
Isaac said, “Professional Responsibility is sending a team.”
“Good.”
“You need to decide whether I stay operational.”
Renata stared at him.
Six years earlier, Isaac had been the person who sat with her after a deputy died during a warrant service.
He had attended Lillian’s seventieth birthday even though Renata herself had almost refused.
He knew Daniel’s name.
Not the details.
But the name.
“If I remove you because your credential was compromised,” she said, “I’m helping whoever compromised it.”
Isaac nodded once.
“That’s what I’d say.”
“That doesn’t mean I trust you blindly.”
“You shouldn’t.”
Renata appreciated the answer more than reassurance.
A technician knocked.
“We identified the Tahoe.”
Isaac and Renata turned.
“Registered to Hollow Ridge Development,” the technician said.
Renata felt the old family argument return.
The land.
The shell companies.
Daniel.
“Owner?”
“Hollow Ridge is owned by a Delaware holding company called Weller Strategic Assets.”
Isaac frowned.
“Weller?”
Renata noticed.
“You know it?”
He did not answer immediately.
That was the second hesitation of the day.
“Isaac.”
He met her eyes.
“Our regional deputy director is Thomas Weller.”
Silence.
Renata remembered the classified Boone operation.
Only four people had known.
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One of them was Thomas Weller.
And somewhere outside Millbrook Hollow, a man called Shepherd had just become much more real.
