Chapter 11: The Real Threat Wasn’t A Ghost
Two men stepped out of the SUV, holding FBI badges.
"I’m Agent Torres," the taller one said. "We’ve been tracking this for six months. Roger wasn’t crazy—but he was right about one thing: someone is watching your family. And they’re not ghosts."
We sat in the back of their unmarked car while they explained.
The threats Roger got weren’t from Voss’s old crew. They were from the people who’d taken over Voss’s old network—human traffickers who’d expanded into stealing from families and blackmailing former cops. Roger had accidentally stumbled on their whole operation years ago, and hidden proof that could put every last one of them away for life.
"He buried it deep," Torres said. "Thought if no one knew it existed, no one would come looking. But they found out he had it. And they know Sarah knows exactly where it is."
"Knows what?" I asked.
"Where he stashed the files," Torres said. "The ones no one else could find. Not even us."
We looked at Sarah. She was sitting quiet, twisting the hem of her shirt between her fingers.
"Sarah?" I said soft. "Did Grandpa ever give you something to keep safe? Something he said only you could find?"
She nodded slow. "A metal box. He said bad people never look up."
---
