Chapter Eight #3
“Look at the dates.” She traced a series of transactions with her finger.
“Each payment to Judge Harmon coincides with a case dismissal.” She pulled her mother’s notebook from her bag, flipping to a dog-eared page.
“Every single one of these dates matches a case my mother flagged -- missing persons reports dismissed, charges dropped against the Blue Pines Motel owners, evidence lost in human trafficking investigations.”
The excitement in her voice was contagious, her body practically vibrated with vindication. This was it -- the evidence her mother had been piecing together. The puzzle was finally taking shape.
“These aren’t just random payments.” I examined the records more closely. “This is a payoff system.”
Nova nodded, already pulling more files.
“And look at this -- property transfers. The Blue Pines Motel chain changed hands three times in two years, each time passing through one of these shell companies.” She flipped through her mother’s notebook again.
“Mom noted each transfer coincided with new disappearances.”
While Nova continued gathering paper evidence, I returned to the computer, digging deeper into the digital records.
The county system was archaic but comprehensive, storing everything from tax assessments to court filings.
I searched for cases involving the names Nova had identified, finding a disturbing pattern.
“There are deleted case files. But they didn’t clean up properly.
The system keeps header information even when the content is purged.
” I scrolled through the entries, my medical training allowing me to process information quickly.
“Dozens of cases marked ‘administratively closed’ with Judge Harmon’s digital signature.
All involving young women, all with connections to the businesses your mother identified. ”
Nova appeared at my shoulder, her breath catching as she scanned the screen. “That’s it. That’s what got her killed. She found the pattern, followed the money, connected the officials. Both county and city.”
I continued searching, finding more damning evidence with each query. Court records altered after filing. Evidence logs showing items checked in but never appearing in case files. Witness statements taken but never entered into record.
“They built a perfect system. Law enforcement identifies vulnerable girls, the motels provide temporary housing, the trucking companies move them out of state, and the courts ensure no one looks too closely.”
Nova’s hand gripped my shoulder, her fingers digging in with increasing pressure as the full scope became clear. “We need to download everything. Every record, every transaction.”
I nodded, pulling another USB drive from my pocket and beginning the transfer.
Nova returned to the file cabinets, gathering the most damning paper evidence to take with us.
The pieces were falling into place faster than we’d hoped, painting a picture of corruption that ran through the entire county system.
I was so focused on downloading the evidence that I almost missed it -- the sweep of headlights across the front windows, casting momentary shadows across the office floor.
“Nova,” I whispered, immediately killing the monitor. “Security.”
She froze by the filing cabinet, her body going absolutely still. We listened as a car door slammed outside, followed by footsteps on gravel. The night security guard.
“Hide.” I motioned toward the back of the office where large filing cabinets created shadowed corners.
Nova gathered her evidence quickly but quietly, sliding behind a tall cabinet just as a flashlight beam swept through the front windows. I remained at the computer, waiting for the download to complete, painfully aware of each passing second. Eighty-seven percent. Eighty-nine percent.
Keys jingled at the front door. Ninety-three percent.
The lock turned with a heavy click. Ninety-eight percent.
The door swung open just as the download completed. I yanked the drive free and ducked behind a desk, my heart hammering against my ribs as the security guard’s flashlight beam cut through the darkness of the office.
“Hello?” a male voice called. “Anyone in here?”
I pressed myself against the desk, controlling my breathing the way I’d learned in combat situations. Across the room, Nova was a shadow among shadows, completely still.
The guard’s footsteps carried deeper into the office, his flashlight sweeping methodically across the space.
Its beam slid over the desk I hid behind, then jerked back and reversed.
A faint glow betrayed me -- the computer monitor.
I had killed the display, but the system still ran, the tiny green light shining in the darkness like a beacon.
“What the hell?” the guard muttered, moving toward the clerk’s desk where I’d been working moments before.
Time was up. We had what we needed, but now we needed to get out. And that had just become infinitely more complicated.