Chapter 2 - The Trap at Blackwood Ridge
By 0800 hours, Police Chief Gordon May arrived at Charleston Memorial Hospital. He wore his tailored uniform, his brass badge polished to a mirror shine, pretending to be a concerned local official conducting a routine inquiry. He walked into Anna’s pediatric room with a clipboard in hand, flanked by two junior officers who looked nervously at the floor.
"Mark," Chief May said, offering a smooth, practiced smile that failed to reach his eyes. "Terrible business about Anna. We heard about the accident at the mill yard. A falling timber frame, from what Ellis told us. I need to take Anna’s clothing and her phone into evidence to wrap up the report."
I stood between Chief May and my daughter’s bed, my six-foot-two frame blocking his view completely. "It wasn't an accident, Gordon. And you know it."
May you like
May’s smile vanished, replaced by the cold, heavy demeanor of a man accustomed to obedience. "Now look here, son. You’ve been away on deployment. You don't know how things work around here anymore. Ellis Higgins runs this county, and he’s being very generous by not pressing trespassing charges against you for causing a scene. Hand over the phone and let us handle the paperwork."
I didn't argue. I reached into my pocket and handed him a decoy phone—an old model I had cleared earlier that morning—along with a bag of secondary items. May smirked, believing he had successfully seized the only evidence. He had no idea that the real digital files were already sitting on high-security federal servers, and that three unmarked federal SUVs had just crossed into Blackwood Ridge, beginning silent surveillance on every member of the Higgins family.
