20. Epilogue One Week Later
Epilogue: One Week Later
Steve
A week ago, we were standing in northern Manitoba wondering how many women were buried beneath the snow.
Today, Douglas Lockhart is under arrest.
I lean back in my chair as Victor puts his photograph on the main screen.
“Douglas Lockhart was formally charged this morning,” Victor says. “Kidnapping, forcible confinement, trafficking, conspiracy and obstruction. The Crown opposed his release, and the judge agreed. He stays in custody.”
That earns a few smiles around the table.
Victor isn’t finished.
“Warrants have also been executed across Lockhart Mining offices, private residences and associated properties. Financial records, computers and physical files have been seized, and authorities have frozen assets connected to the trafficking investigation.”
“About time,” I mutter.
“There’s more. North Star was officially closed years ago, but investigators have already confirmed Lockhart continued operating the site.”
Jan looks up. “Mining?”
“Looks that way. Fuel deliveries, equipment records, active machinery and other evidence that shouldn’t exist at a decommissioned mine.
Mining and environmental regulators have shut North Star down completely and issued suspension orders across other Lockhart sites while they review permits, safety records and closure filings. ”
“Bloody hell. That’s awesome!”
“Tax authorities are involved too. If Lockhart concealed production or revenue from North Star, they’ve got another problem. And every supposedly closed Lockhart site is now being reviewed.”
Angus smiles. “Opened one hell of a can of worms.”
“More like a whole bloody mine full,” I say.
“Several Lockhart employees and security staff have been arrested as well. The women rescued from North Star have given statements alleging assault, unlawful confinement and abuse, and investigators are matching those accounts against staff rosters, shift records and surveillance recovered from the site.”
“They finally kicked the door in.”
“More like took the whole bloody house,” Angus says.
Beside me, Jan slips her hand into mine.
The conference room is full. Angus, Jax and Shane came back to San Francisco with us. Faith is here, along with Serenity and the rest of the team, while Felicity and Destiny have enough screens open to run a small country and G is adding his usual pithy commentary.
Victor changes the display.
Lockhart Mining’s logo appears beneath a wall of headlines from around the world.
The story broke wide after North Star.
By the time the media arrived, we were already gone.
That’s how HAVEN works.
We don’t need our faces on television. We need the women we came for alive, the evidence preserved and the truth impossible to bury.
Human remains.
Missing Indigenous women.
Seven women rescued alive.
An RCMP inspector suspected of taking Lockhart money for seventeen years.
And now the billionaire head of one of Canada’s most powerful mining families being led away by police.
“Perry?” Renzo asks.
Victor’s expression hardens. “Still detained while the investigation continues. Faith’s traced more than three million dollars in payments over seventeen years, and investigators are reviewing every missing-person case that passed through his detachment. They’re looking at other officers too.”
“How many?” Jan asks.
“Too early to say. But he’ll be going down.”
Victor brings up an aerial image of North Star. The compound looks almost insignificant from above.
It isn’t.
“Preliminary ground surveys at North Star still indicate more than thirty possible sets of human remains,” he says. “That number could change substantially once excavation begins. The ground is frozen, the site is large and the forensic work will take months.”
Nobody says anything.
Shane breaks the silence. “Then we give them the months. Every woman recovered is one less person Lockhart gets to erase.”
That settles over the room differently.
More than thirty.
And they still don’t know whether North Star is the only burial site.
“Identification?” I ask.
“None confirmed yet,” Victor says. “DNA collection has begun with families who consent. Forensic teams are working with Indigenous representatives and community leadership. They’re taking their time and doing it properly.”
As they should.
Felicity changes the screen again.
A map of northern Manitoba appears, marked with Lockhart mines, camps, transport routes and properties stretching back decades.
“North Star isn’t the end of this,” she says. “Records recovered before the warrants indicate women were moved between Lockhart operations. Some went elsewhere entirely.”
“Trafficked,” Jax says.
Faith nods. “Almost certainly in some cases.”
“And the others?” Jan asks quietly.
“We don’t know.”
That’s the answer none of us likes.
Some women may have escaped. Some may have survived under different names. Others could be buried somewhere nobody has searched yet.
“Felicity, Mercy, start building me a list of former Lockhart employees who are still alive, especially anyone who worked there for twenty years or more,” Victor says. “Retired managers, supervisors, security, drivers, camp staff. Find the ones who might finally be willing to talk.”
Jan adds, “See if you can find a Daniel who was a truck driver who helped Maya too.”
More than three hundred missing women are now being reviewed for possible connections to Lockhart operations, and families are still coming forward.
Three hundred photographs. Three hundred lives somebody decided weren’t worth enough questions.
Victor looks around the table.
“This investigation could take years.”
“Then it takes years,” Jan says.
I squeeze her hand.
On the screen, Douglas Lockhart’s arrest photograph replaces the map.
For decades, his family believed money could buy silence, police, politicians and time.
Turns out time eventually sends you the bill.
Victor closes the file.
“Douglas Lockhart is staying behind bars until trial. His company is under investigation, his people are being arrested, and every day brings us more evidence.”
Jax leans back. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke.”
Victor looks around the table.
“But this is only the beginning.”
I glance at the map still visible on Felicity’s screen.
“Yeah, mate. Lockhart’s caught.”
Victor raises an eyebrow.
“But we’re nowhere near finished.”
Blackstone Ventures HQ, San Francisco. 1030 hours.
Once the Lockhart briefing ends, the room shifts from criminal fallout to the people who got out alive.
Victor brings up the secure link to MacLeod’s Boat Harbor in Vancouver.
Dr. Josh appears on screen first, seated in the medical office with a mug beside him and several folders stacked out of camera range.
“How are they?” Jan asks.
“Physically, improving. Frost exposure, dehydration, untreated injuries, nutritional deficiencies. Nothing we can’t manage.”
“And the rest?”
Josh takes a second before answering.
“Eight women came out of North Star with eight different histories. Seven came here. Some were there weeks. Others considerably longer. A few were moved through other Lockhart sites before North Star. We’re not pushing anyone for details beyond what they want to give.”
Jan nods. “Exactly.”
“They’ve got private rooms, medical care, counselors, security and access to lawyers. Two have already asked about contacting family. Another doesn’t want anyone told where she is yet.”
“Her choice,” Victor says.
“Always.”
That part matters. They’ve had enough decisions taken from them.
Josh smiles. “They seem to be in fairly good spirits, though. Especially with the court jester on call.”
Victor lifts an eyebrow.
“Crew.”
Enough said.
Jan sits back beside me. Some of the strain she’s carried since Manitoba eases from her face.
Eight women safe. Honor home.
It isn’t everything. But it’s enough to breathe around.
Victor thanks Josh for the update and closes the Boat Harbor link, Then he looks across the table.
“Steve, Janice, you two have been running hard since London.”
I know where this is going.
“No.”
Jan turns toward me. “He hasn’t even said anything yet.”
“Don’t need him to.”
She squeezes my leg under the table.
Victor ignores me. “Take a few days off.”
“I knew it.”
“You’ve gone from London to Scotland to northern Manitoba without stopping.”
“Technically, we slept.”
Angus snorts.
Jan gives me a sideways look. “Barely.”
Traitor.
Victor folds his arms. “You’re no use to anyone exhausted.”
“I’m touched by the concern. What about Angus and Jax? They’ve been running just as hard as we have.”
“Take the damn break, Steve.”
I look at Jan. She’s already smiling.
“Where?” I ask.
Her expression softens as she thinks about it.
“Napa Valley.”
I grin. “Back to the scene of our first HAVEN adventure.”
Destiny looks over from across the table.
“Only this time without the auction for beautiful women.”
She growls.
I lift both hands. “Too soon?”
“Much.”
Jan laughs beside me.
I look at her. “Wine, decent food, no snow and absolutely no rescuing anyone.”
“That last part sounds optimistic.”
“Napa it is.”
Victor looks around the table. “Good. In fact, everyone take the weekend. I don’t want to see any of you back here until Monday.”
Angus blinks. “Everyone?”
“Everyone.” Victor’s expression softens. “I plan to spend some time with Shereen myself before the next little Harrison arrives.”
I stare at him. “You feeling all right, mate?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
Jan laughs beside me.
Destiny folds her arms. “If you find another auction, I’m disowning both of you.”
I grin. “See? Already more relaxing than last time.”
Jan shakes her head, laughing.
I reach for my coffee.
“Bloody HAVEN.”
Blackstone Ventures HQ, San Francisco. 1045 hours.
Victor lets the discussion settle before speaking again.
“There’s something else.”
The change in his tone gets everyone’s attention.
He reaches for the tablet in front of him but doesn’t put anything on the screen yet.
“I went out to Marin yesterday.”
Angus looks interested immediately. “Our house guests?”
“Yes.”
“Did I miss the chance to inject that bastard again? Damn.”
Jan gives him a look. Destiny blows him a kiss.