Chapter 9: The Mayor's Missing List
At 5:12 the next morning, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror at my apartment.
I hadn't slept.
My father's voice kept replaying in my head.
The person running everything was not a police officer.
Mayor Daniel Whitmore.
The man who had attended my mother's funeral.
The man who had publicly praised the department's work during the investigation into her death.
The man who had shaken my hand when I received my detective promotion.
He had stood beside me and told me how proud my mother would have been.
I had thanked him.
Now I wanted to know how many people had disappeared while he was smiling for cameras.
I put on a dark coat, secured my badge, and checked my weapon.
My phone rang.
Morrison.
“Carter, where are you?””
“Heading to the river bridge.””
“Don't go.””
“My father requested the meeting.””
“That's exactly why you shouldn't.””
I grabbed my keys.
“Did you find anything on the mayor?””
There was a pause.
Then Morrison said, “Yes.””
“What?””
“His name appears in the relocation ledger.””
My heart raced.
“How many times?””
“Twenty-seven.””
The same number as the missing-person names in Daniel's notebook.
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Is he the one who signed the orders?””
“We don't know yet. But there's another problem.””
“What?””
“The mayor's office requested access to the investigation files two hours ago.””
I went still.
“Who approved it?””
“Nobody.””
“Then how did they get in?””
Morrison lowered his voice.
“Someone used your credentials.””
I stared at my badge.
“That isn't possible.””
“Your access code was used to download the original case documents.””
I felt cold.
“Where?””
“The central records server.””
“Who was physically present?””
“Security footage shows someone wearing a maintenance uniform.””
“Can you identify him?””
“Not yet.””
I closed my eyes.
Someone had access to my credentials.
Someone knew my movements.
Someone was watching the investigation from inside headquarters.
“I'm still going to the bridge,” I said.
“Carter—”
I ended the call.
The river bridge was nearly empty when I arrived.
Fog hung above the water.
A delivery truck crossed in the opposite direction, its headlights cutting through the gray morning.
I parked near the pedestrian entrance.
A man stood beside the railing.
He wore a dark jacket and a baseball cap.
His hands were buried in his pockets.
I approached slowly.
“Michael Carter?””
The man turned.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
He looked older than the photograph.
His hair had turned mostly gray, and the scar above his eyebrow was deeper than I remembered.
But there was no doubt.
It was my father.
He looked at me as if he had spent twenty-nine years trying to remember my face.
“Nia.””
I stopped a few feet away.
“Don't.””
He nodded.
“I understand.””
“No, you don't. You don't get to stand here and say my name like you've been a father.””
His eyes filled.
“I know.””
“You missed my childhood. You missed Malik's graduation. You missed Mom's funeral.””
“I know.””
“You let us believe you were dead.””
“I thought it was the only way to protect you.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Everybody seems to have the same excuse.””
He looked toward the water.
“Your mother hated me for leaving.””
“Good.””
“She told me I would never get another chance to explain.””
I crossed my arms.
“Then explain now.””
He reached into his jacket and removed a small black notebook.
“The relocation ledger.””
I stared at it.
“Is it original?””
“Yes.””
“Where did you get it?””
“Your brother.””
“Where is he?””
Michael looked at me.
“Alive. But he isn't safe.””
“Why?””
“Because he has the other half.””
I took a step closer.
“The other half of what?””
“The authorization records. Names, signatures, payment transfers. Everything needed to prove who ordered the disappearances.””
“Then why not turn it over?””
“Because the mayor has enough influence to destroy the evidence before it reaches a courtroom.””
I studied his face.
“Why did Malik get involved?””
Michael opened the notebook.
“Because he found out what happened to your mother.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What exactly happened?””
Michael looked down.
“Your mother was trying to expose Whitmore. She had evidence that he was using city contracts to fund the operation.””
“Was he responsible for the crash?””
Michael's jaw tightened.
“He ordered the vehicle to be stopped.””
“Who was driving the other car?””
“Derek.””
I looked toward the road.
“Then Derek killed her.””
“Not intentionally.””
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?””
“Derek was ordered to intercept us. He was supposed to frighten your mother into surrendering the documents. But the vehicle hit us at high speed.””
“And Patricia?””
“She was in the passenger seat. She survived because she was wearing her seat belt.””
“Why did she pretend she wasn't there?””
“Because she made a deal.””
“What deal?””
Michael looked directly at me.
“She agreed to give Whitmore the original documents in exchange for your safety.””
I shook my head.
“She spent eight years lying to us.””
“She thought she was saving you.””
“Did she give him the documents?””
“No.””
“Then where are they?””
Michael tapped the notebook.
“Some of them are here.””
I opened it.
The first page contained a list of names.
The second contained account numbers.
The third contained dates.
Then I found a page with a red circle around one name.
NIA CARTER.
My hands went cold.
“Why is my name here?””
Michael looked away.
“Because Whitmore believes you have the original evidence.””
“But I don't.””
“He thinks Malik gave it to you.””
I turned the page.
A second name appeared.
MALIK CARTER.
Beside it was a handwritten note.
Primary witness. Do not relocate.
I looked at my father.
“What does that mean?””
“It means Whitmore doesn't want Malik disappeared.””
I frowned.
“Then what does he want?””
Michael's expression changed.
“He wants Malik to confess to the crimes the network committed.””
I stared at him.
“He wants to frame my brother?””
“Yes.””
“For what?””
“Financial fraud, kidnapping, evidence tampering, and the deaths of several witnesses.””
I felt sick.
“And when did he plan to do this?””
Michael checked his watch.
“Today.””
My phone vibrated.
An incoming call from an unknown number.
I answered.
A familiar voice spoke.
“Detective Carter.””
Mayor Whitmore.
I looked at my father.
The mayor continued.
“I understand you've been asking questions about old records.””
“Then you understand why.””
He chuckled softly.
“Your mother was always a difficult woman.””
My grip tightened.
“Don't speak about her.””
“I respected her. I even tried to help her.””
“You ordered her death.””
A pause.
Then he said, “That's a serious accusation.””
“I have evidence.””
“Do you?””
I looked at the notebook.
“Yes.””
The mayor sighed.
“Then perhaps you should bring it to my office.””
“Why?””
“Because your brother is here.””
My blood turned cold.
“What?””
“Malik is sitting in my conference room as we speak.””
I looked at my father.
He shook his head urgently.
“That's impossible,” I said.
“Not at all. He came to surrender himself.””
I heard a faint sound in the background.
A chair moving.
Then another voice.
“Nia?””
My brother.
“Malik!””
The mayor interrupted.
“Your brother has agreed to make a full confession. He says he was responsible for the missing-person operation.””
“Put him on the phone.””
“I'm afraid he has already signed his statement.””
I felt my chest tighten.
“That's a lie.””
“Come and see for yourself.””
The call ended.
I immediately called Morrison.
“Whitmore has Malik.””
“What?””
“He says Malik is at City Hall and has signed a confession.””
“Don't go there alone.””
“I won't.””
My father grabbed my arm.
“There's something else.””
I turned.
“What?””
He looked terrified.
“Whitmore doesn't need the ledger anymore.””
“Why?””
“Because the second half of the evidence was never with Malik.””
“Where is it?””
Michael reached into his coat and removed a small photograph.
It showed my mother standing beside a little girl.
The girl was approximately eight years old.
She wore a yellow dress and held a stuffed rabbit.
I recognized the location.
The photograph had been taken inside our old family home.
I looked at my father.
“Who is she?””
He swallowed.
“Your sister.””
I stared at him.
“My sister is dead.””
“No, Nia.””
He looked toward the road.
“Your mother gave birth to another child before she died. A child nobody knew existed.””
My hands began shaking.
“Where is she?””
Michael pointed to the back of the photograph.
A name was written there.
*ELENA WHITMORE.*
The mayor's daughter.
My phone vibrated again.
A message from Malik.
Don't trust the confession.
Then another message arrived.
And don't let Dad tell you what happened to Elena.
I looked up.
My father was already stepping away.
“Michael!””
He stopped.
I held up the phone.
“Why is Malik warning me about you?””
My father closed his eyes.
Then he said the one thing I wasn't prepared to hear.
“Because I was the one who took your sister.””
A black SUV suddenly pulled onto the bridge.
Two men jumped out.
One pointed a weapon toward us.
My father shoved the notebook into my hands.
“Run, Nia!””
A gunshot cracked through the morning fog.
And my father fell against the railing.
I dropped beside him.
Blood spread across his jacket.
He grabbed my wrist with surprising strength.
“Find Elena,” he whispered.
“Dad, stay with me!””
His eyes shifted toward the men approaching.
Then he leaned closer.
“She's not the mayor's daughter.””
His breathing became shallow.
“She is your mother's killer.””
His hand slipped from mine.
And somewhere behind us, my phone began ringing again.
May you like
The screen displayed a name I had never expected to see.
*ELENA WHITMORE.*
