Chapter 10 #2
"You said that already. Let me tell you how this plays out.
You keep saying 'lawyer,' and I charge you with attempted kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, and felony pursuit.
You'll sit in county lockup for weeks waiting for arraignment.
Your employer won't bail you out because that creates paper trails they don't want. "
His expression doesn't change.
"Or you tell me who hired you and why. Might be able to work something out with the DA. Reduced charges. Maybe even walk on time served if you cooperate."
Moore holds my gaze with that same calculating look.
Rhys leans forward. "You know what the best part about small-town law enforcement is? We have time. We can sit here all night if that's what it takes. All week. Because I've got nowhere more important to be than right here, finding out who sent you to grab a witness."
Moore glances at Rhys, weighing his options.
"Sheriff Blackwater," Harlow says. "The man whose wife died in what looked like an accident. Until we discovered it was murder. The man who's spent months tracking down everyone involved. You think he's going to get bored and walk away?"
Moore's mouth tightens but he stays silent.
I lean back and change tactics. "Fine. Let's talk about what I know instead of what you won't say.
Lyle Haywood. FBI. Running protection for a trafficking network in Alaska for years.
Emma Blackwater, a nurse, documented his involvement.
Died in a suspicious car accident. Now Sela Mitchell has Emma's evidence, and suddenly contractors are trying to grab her in broad daylight. "
Moore blinks once in recognition.
Rhys's voice goes cold. "You know the name.
Haywood. The man who ordered my wife killed.
The same man who hired you today." He pushes a photo across the table.
Emma. Smiling. Alive. "This is Emma Blackwater.
The nurse you just heard about. She treated trafficking victims at Palmer Hospital.
Started asking questions. And a black truck forced her off Mountain Pass Road. "
Moore goes pale.
"Did Haywood tell you about her?" Rhys asks. "Or did he just give you a target name and a paycheck?"
He doesn't respond.
"Maybe he told you Sela was a fugitive. Material witness, classified investigation, federal authorization—the whole nine yards. Made it sound legal."
Moore's breathing changes, gets shallow and faster.
"Here's the problem with that story," Harlow says.
"Sela Mitchell isn't a fugitive. She's a nurse who reported evidence of federal corruption.
And if Haywood told you she was a material witness requiring detention, he lied to you.
Everything you did today was illegal. No federal authority.
No legal protection. Just felony kidnapping. "
His mouth tightens.
I open the folder and pull out a printed document. It's a federal warrant with Haywood's signature at the bottom.
"He did give you authorization, didn't he? Showed you this. Material witness warrant. Classified investigation. You believed him because why wouldn't you? He's FBI. The paperwork looks legitimate. You were just following orders."
I push the warrant across the table and let him study it.
"Except it's not legitimate. It's fabricated. Haywood's using his position to manufacture legal cover for hunting down a witness to his crimes. And you're the fall guy."
Moore studies the document. His fingers twitch toward it before he stops himself.
Rhys picks up Emma's photo. "I thought it was an accident for years.
Tragic loss on a dangerous road. Then we started investigating the trafficking network and everything changed.
Her patients were trafficking victims. She documented what she saw.
And someone made sure she couldn't testify.
" He sets the photo down in front of Moore.
"You're part of that chain. Took Haywood's money.
Went after a witness. You're connected to Emma's murder whether you pulled the trigger or not. "
Moore won't look away from Emma's photo.
Several long seconds pass. Then Moore exhales slowly. "I want immunity. Full. And witness protection."
"Can't promise that. But I can get you in front of people who can."
He watches Emma's photo for another long moment, then looks up at Rhys.
"Haywood hired our outfit recently. Said he needed a material witness detained.
Showed us the warrant. We verified it through channels, called the number on the document, got confirmation from someone claiming to be with the bureau's Anchorage office. "
"Someone Haywood planted," Harlow says.
"Probably. We were told to locate Sela Mitchell, detain her, and transport her to a federal facility for questioning. Non-lethal force was authorized if she resisted. Payment was wired in advance. Serious money."
And Haywood paid a premium for them.
"How many people on your team?" Rhys asks.
"Small team. A couple in the van, one in the SUV, another providing overwatch you didn't see."
They had more coverage than I thought.
"Where are they now?"
"Gone. Standard protocol—one gets detained, everyone else scatters. They'll be out of state by tonight."
"And Haywood?" Rhys leans forward. "Is he running other teams? Other contractors hunting Sela?"
"We report to a handler. Never met Haywood directly. Don't know if he's running other teams."
I exchange a look with Harlow and she nods. This is bigger than one contractor team.
"The warrant. Where's the original?"
"Handler has it. But I took photos." He nods toward his phone, which I've got bagged as evidence. "It's in there. Encrypted but I'll give you the passcode."
It's the first solid piece of evidence we can use.
Harlow makes notes while Rhys continues. "What else did Haywood tell you about Sela? Why she's important?"
"Nothing. We don't ask questions. Get the target, the parameters, the payment—that's it."
"But you've done this before. Other targets for other clients."
"Yeah."
"How many?"
"Lost count."
Rhys sits back. This is what Emma found and what got her killed. Federal agents using their authority to manufacture legal cover for crimes. Contractors who don't ask questions. A system so broken that a nurse with evidence gets hunted like an enemy combatant.
"One more question," Harlow says. "Your handler. Does he work directly for Haywood?"
"Don't know. But he's got access to federal databases. Real-time updates on target locations. That's not civilian-level access."
"Someone inside the bureau."
"Yeah. Someone high enough to authorize surveillance and issue warrants without oversight."
We leave him in the interview room and step into the corridor. Rhys's hands are clenched into fists. He's spent months hunting, and every answer shows how deep this runs.
"Haywood's not just protecting the trafficking network," Harlow says. "He's weaponized the FBI. Every cop, every federal agent in Alaska is now his asset. All he has to do is show them that warrant and they'll detain Sela legally."
"We need to move fast," Rhys says. "Get the evidence to someone who can act on it before Haywood consolidates his position."
"Who? If he's got allies high enough to authorize fake warrants, who do we trust?"
"Not many people left," Rhys says. "By-the-book routes take weeks. Internal Affairs, Inspector General, DOJ's Public Corruption Unit. Haywood will use that time to hunt Sela and bury evidence."
I head to the conference room, Rhys and Harlow following. Sela opens the door when I knock.
"What did you find out?"
Before I can answer, Rhys steps forward. "We got him to talk. Moore confirmed Haywood hired his team, showed them a federal warrant for your detention. Material witness."
"So it's official," Sela says. "Every cop in the state is looking for me."
"That's the situation," Rhys says. "Same playbook they’ve used before, I’m sure. Manufacture legal cover, then use the system to eliminate the threat."
Sela pauses while she considers. "What are our options?"
"We go around the system," Harlow says. "Find someone we can trust. Someone who'll move fast."
"Who?"
"Rebecca Macintosh. She's the victim advocate Jackie mentioned. She works closely with law enforcement on trafficking cases. She'll know who we can approach."
"And if she doesn't?" Sela asks.
"Then we leak everything to the press and force public exposure," Rhys says. "Make it impossible for Haywood to bury this."
Sela pauses while she considers. "That burns every bridge we have."
"Yeah," Rhys says. "But it keeps you alive. Emma didn't have that option. You do."
"Then do both. Contact Rebecca and prep the leak. Cover all our angles."
Harlow pulls out her phone. "I'll reach out to Rebecca Macintosh. She'll know who we can trust in Anchorage. I'll set up a meeting."
"Soon as possible," Rhys says. "We don't have much time before Haywood realizes we've got his contractor."
"Agreed." Harlow steps into the hallway to make the call.
The next stretch passes in coordination. Harlow reaches out to Rebecca Macintosh while Rhys and I handle Moore's formal detention processing and coordinate with the DA's office.
By the time we finish, Harlow has updates.
"Rebecca gave me a name. Agent Ruth Calder, Anchorage field office. Works trafficking cases, knows Rebecca's organization. Agreed to meet but warned me Haywood has allies high up. Career-ending risk for all of us."
"Set it up. Tomorrow morning. Private location," Rhys says.
"Done. Marc, be careful. If Calder's compromised, you're handing Haywood everything."
"I know. But we're out of options."
I return to the conference room. Sela's been waiting, her exhaustion showing in the dark circles under her eyes and the way her shoulders sag.
"We've got a meeting with an FBI agent tomorrow morning. Ruth Calder. Works with Rebecca Macintosh's organization. If she's clean, she can push this investigation through channels Haywood can't touch."
Sela stands. "And if she's not clean?"
"Then we leak everything and run."
We head out to my truck. The drive back is tense, both of us watching for tails. Darkness has fallen completely now, headlights cutting through it.
"I'm tired of running," she finally says.
"I know."
"Emma didn't run. She found and documented evidence. And they killed her for it."
"You're not Emma."
"No." Her voice hardens. "But I've got what she died protecting. And I'm not letting Haywood win."