Chapter 8 - The Road Back to Vermont
Lena hadn't returned to her grandmother's farm in almost three years.
Not because she hated Vermont.
Because she loved it too much.
Some places held memories so densely that walking into them felt like entering a room where everyone you missed was still sitting at the table.
By sunrise, Lena was heading north.
Dominic drove this time.
No chauffeur.
No convoy of black SUVs in plain sight.
Two security vehicles followed miles behind.
Rook lay in the rear cargo area on thick blankets.
Dr. Sato had wanted another six hours before travel.
Then she saw the photograph of Sarah.
“Take him,” she'd said.
The electrode remained inside him.
Surgery would happen when they returned.
But the transmitter network was disabled, and Dr. Sato believed the immediate danger had passed.
Lena sat turned sideways so Rook could keep one paw against her boot.
He did that constantly now.
Not affection exactly.
Confirmation.
Still here?
Yes.
Still here.
Dominic watched through the mirror.
“He trusts you.”
“He's checking.”
“What?”
“That I didn't disappear.”
Dominic looked back at the road.
“I know the feeling.”
Lena didn't answer.
They crossed into Vermont under a pale gray sky.
Trees rolled across hills.
Barns.
Frozen ponds.
Old stone walls.
Every mile pulled something loose inside her.
She remembered being eight and running through wet grass.
Her grandmother shouting not to climb the apple tree.
Her father—uncle, apparently—fixing the porch steps.
Her mother.
That was harder.
Sarah's face existed in fragments.
Hands kneading bread.
Brown hair twisted above her neck.
A yellow sweater.
A voice singing badly to the radio.
One afternoon sitting on the barn floor with a dog whose name Lena couldn't remember.
Had Dominic's story always been inside those memories?
“How did my grandmother know you?” she asked.
Dominic's hands tightened on the wheel.
“Sarah brought you to her after she ran.”
“Then you arranged the fake funeral.”
“Yes.”
“Whose body?”
“A woman who died in the same crash Elias believed Sarah was in.”
Lena looked at him.
“There actually was a crash.”
“Yes.”
“Who died?”
“An associate of Sarah's.”
“And you let my family pretend it was her.”
“Yes.”
“Did police know?”
“Some.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“I can't undo it.”
“No.”
He glanced toward her.
“But I can tell you everything.”
“Start with this.”
She held up the photograph Mara sent.
“Why would Mara help us?”
“I don't know.”
“You think she's innocent?”
“I think nobody in this is entirely innocent.”
“Comforting.”
“Truth usually isn't.”
At a gas station near Rutland, Lena received another message from Mara.
Do not go directly to Sarah.
Then coordinates.
An abandoned church six miles from Lena's old farm.
Saint Michael's.
The same church where Sarah had tried to meet Dominic four years ago.
Dominic stared at the coordinates.
“Could be a trap.”
“Everything is a trap with you.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“You're not going to stop me.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Really?”
“I've learned.”
“That's new.”
“Painful, too.”
They continued.
By early afternoon, the church appeared through bare trees.
Small.
White paint peeling.
Bell tower leaning slightly.
The cemetery behind it contained stones Lena knew.
Her grandmother.
Her uncle.
And a grave bearing Sarah Mercer's name.
Empty.
Lena stared through the window.
“I spent fifteen Christmases putting flowers there.”
Dominic said nothing.
They parked behind the church.
Rook stood immediately.
The dog sniffed the air.
His body went rigid.
Then his tail moved.
Once.
Dominic froze.
“What?”
Lena opened the rear door.
Rook stepped down.
He lifted his head.
Wind moved through dead grass.
His nose worked.
Then he pulled toward the cemetery.
“Rook.”
Dominic's voice cracked slightly.
The mastiff moved faster.
Lena held the long lead but let him choose direction.
He passed gravestones.
Stopped beside Sarah's.
Sniffed.
Then turned away.
Toward the woods.
“He has her.”
Dominic's face changed.
Rook followed the scent.
Thirty yards.
Fifty.
Through a broken fence.
Toward an old caretaker's cottage behind the church.
The front door stood open.
Dominic stopped Lena.
“Behind me.”
She nearly argued.
Then saw his face.
This wasn't control.
It was fear.
She allowed it.
They entered.
Empty kitchen.
Cold fireplace.
Dust.
A cup of coffee still warm.
Someone had been there.
Minutes ago.
Rook moved toward the back room.
Growled once.
Not panic.
Warning.
Dominic drew a handgun.
Lena looked at it.
“Great.”
“I told you about occupational hazards.”
The bedroom was empty.
But on the wall hung photographs.
Dozens.
Lena as a child.
Lena at fourteen leaving school.
Lena graduating.
Lena working at a diner.
Lena beside an Apex truck.
Her life.
Watched from a distance.
She couldn't breathe.
“My mother took these?”
Dominic studied the angles.
“Some.”
“How do you know?”
“Several are surveillance quality.”
Meaning Elias.
A table held notebooks.
Maps.
Company records.
A digital recorder.
And a collar.
Rook's old collar.
Dominic picked it up.
“He was wearing this the night he disappeared.”
Lena looked inside.
A small tear in the leather.
Something had been removed.
“Recorder?”
Dominic ran his thumb along it.
“Maybe.”
A noise came from outside.
Vehicle.
Dominic turned.
Too late.
The church bell rang.
Once.
Rook erupted.
Not toward the door.
Toward Lena.
He hit her hard enough to knock her down.
Glass exploded.
A bullet struck the wall where her head had been.
Dominic fired toward the window.
“Down!”
More shots.
Wood splintered.
Rook covered Lena with his body.
A blind dog had heard the shot before the glass broke.
Dominic dragged Lena behind a stone fireplace.
His security team arrived from the road.
Gunfire moved away toward the trees.
Then silence.
Lena's ears rang.
Rook remained pressed over her.
“I'm okay.”
He didn't move.
“Rook.”
His tail touched the floor once.
Dominic crouched.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
He checked Rook.
No blood.
A security man entered.
“Shooter fled east. One vehicle.”
“Description?”
“Gray pickup. Plates obscured.”
Dominic looked at the shattered window.
“They knew exactly where we'd stand.”
Lena looked around.
“Camera.”
They searched.
A tiny lens sat inside a smoke detector.
Live surveillance.
Dominic removed it.
“He watched us enter.”
Lena stared.
Then heard something.
From the digital recorder on the table.
A blinking light.
It had activated when the gunshot occurred.
She pressed play.
Static.
Then a woman's voice.
Sarah.
“If you're hearing this, I'm sorry.”
Lena's hand shook.
“I wanted to tell you in person.”
A pause.
“But Elias has been following me for years, and every time I get close to you, he moves closer too.”
Lena sat down.
Rook leaned against her knee.
Sarah continued.
“The thing Elias wants isn't a ledger.”
Dominic listened.
“It is a recording.”
Lena looked at Rook's torn collar.
Sarah's voice trembled.
“Four years ago, Rook accidentally recorded a meeting at Warehouse Seventeen.”
Dominic's face changed.
“The collar camera,” he whispered.
Lena looked at him.
“You said there wasn't a recorder.”
“There wasn't supposed to be.”
Sarah continued.
“Elena Vale had commissioned a prototype navigation collar for Rook before she died. It used audio mapping to help a blind dog orient himself. The device continuously buffered environmental sound.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
He remembered.
“I stopped using it.”
“But someone restarted it,” Lena said.
Sarah's recording went on.
“Rook captured Elias Kane speaking with six men.”
A pause.
“One was a federal official.”
Another.
“One was a police commander.”
Another.
“And one was someone Dominic will never expect.”
Dominic stared at the recorder.
Sarah said the name.
“Mara Vance.”
Lena felt the floor disappear beneath her.
But Sarah wasn't finished.
“Mara is not working with Elias.”
Lena frowned.
“She is pretending to.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“She has been helping me keep the original recording hidden.”
Lena exhaled.
Then Sarah's voice changed.
Urgent.
“If Elias gets the recording, he doesn't just destroy evidence.”
“He starts a war.”
Dominic's face went cold.
“He has spent years convincing rival organizations that Dominic ordered betrayals he never ordered. The recording proves Elias created them.”
Lena looked at him.
“How many people would come after you?”
Dominic's silence answered.
Sarah continued.
“The original audio file was removed from Rook's collar.”
Dominic picked up the torn leather.
“It was placed somewhere Elias would never willingly search.”
A strange pause.
Then Sarah said:
“With the poorest person in the room.”
Lena's heartbeat slowed.
No.
She looked at her faded Apex jacket.
The jacket Rook had recognized.
Not just because it smelled like the warehouse.
She checked the lining.
Nothing.
Dominic watched.
“What?”
“My mother said poorest person in the room.”
“So?”
“So she knew me.”
Lena grabbed the jacket.
Ran her fingers along the interior seam.
Near the Apex logo, she felt something stiff.
Tiny.
She tore the thread.
A black microSD card fell into her palm.
Nobody breathed.
Dominic stared at it.
“Your mother hid it in your jacket.”
“When?”
“I don't know.”
Lena suddenly remembered.
Three weeks ago.
Apex locker room.
Her jacket had disappeared for thirty minutes.
Mara returned it.
Said it had fallen behind a bench.
Lena closed her hand around the card.
Outside, Rook growled.
Dominic looked toward the shattered window.
Then his phone rang.
Mara.
He answered.
“Where are you?”
Her voice came through breathless.
“Dominic, listen carefully.”
“What?”
“Elias knows Lena has the recording.”
Lena's blood chilled.
Mara continued.
“He's done pretending.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
May you like
Then Mara screamed.
The line went dead.
