Chapter 6: Unit 14
I showed Delgado the photo at six seconds past receiving it.
He looked at it, looked at me, and said, "We go now.
Full team."
"Whoever sent this knows we'll go.
They want us to find something."
"Maybe.
Or they're scared and this is the only move they have left." He was already reaching for his radio.
"Either way, we go."
We left two officers with Evan.
I rode with Delgado.
The storage facility on Mercer Street was the kind of place that didn't ask questions.
Month-to-month rentals, a keypad at the gate, a single camera above the office door that may or may not have been recording anything.
The manager was a heavyset man named Pete who took one look at Delgado's badge and handed over the access log without being asked.
Unit 14 had been rented under the name G.
Sutter.
Paid in cash.
Renewed every three months for the past eight years.
We approached the unit with four officers.
The roll-up door was padlocked.
Delgado had the bolt cutters through it in under a minute.
He pulled the door up.
The smell hit first.
Closed air, old paper, something chemical underneath.
Inside: filing boxes stacked along both walls.
A folding table with a lamp.
A cot in the corner with a folded blanket on top of it.
A small battery-powered heater.
A camp stove.
Two water jugs.
Someone had been living here.
Not recently.
But for a long time, someone had been living here.
On the table: a notebook.
A pen.
A photograph face-down.
Delgado nodded to me.
I turned the photograph over.
It was Daniel.
Older than I remembered.
Thinner.
Standing outside somewhere I didn't recognize, squinting into the sun.
On the back, in his handwriting: *E — age 6.
I watched from the corner.
He looked healthy.*
He had been watching Evan.
From a distance.
Staying hidden, staying close, watching his son grow up from corners and sidewalks because he couldn't come home.
I set the photograph down carefully.
"He was hiding," I said.
"He was hiding from Ryan and he was still trying to watch over Evan."
Delgado opened the notebook.
The first entry was dated eight years ago.
The last entry was fourteen months ago.
The same date as the last activity on the phone.
He read the last entry aloud, quietly.
*Sutter knows I've been here.
Ryan must have told him.
I can't stay.
I'm going to try to get the drive to the house before I move.
If I don't make it back, at least the evidence is there.
At least Evan will have something to give someone.*
*I keep thinking about Marcus.
I should have called him from the beginning.
I was afraid of pulling him in.
I was afraid of what Ryan might do.*
*If this is the last entry — Marcus, if you're reading this — I'm sorry I didn't trust you sooner.
Take care of Evan.
He's a good boy.
He's so much braver than I ever was.*
Delgado closed the notebook.
Neither of us said anything for a moment.
Then one of the officers at the door said, "Detective.
You need to see this."
He was pointing to the back corner of the unit, behind the filing boxes.
We moved the boxes.
Behind them, bolted to the wall: a small locked metal box.
The kind used for documents or valuables.
The lock was the same type as the padlock on the door.
The bolt cutters made short work of it.
Inside: a second USB drive.
A folded letter addressed to me by name — *Officer Marcus Marsh, District 4* — and a small evidence bag containing a SIM card and a handwritten list of dates, amounts, and a name I hadn't seen before.
Councilman Derrick Hale.
Harwick County.
Delgado read the list over my shoulder.
"Ryan wasn't just stealing from your brother," he said slowly.
"He was laundering the proceeds through a county official."
"Which is why Daniel couldn't go to the local police."
"Which is why someone buried the missing persons report."
He straightened up and looked at the room — the cot, the blanket, the photograph, the notebook.
"Your brother built a case from inside a storage unit for eight years," Delgado said.
"And then someone found him."
"Where is he?" I said.
"Ryan said he knows.
If Daniel was found fourteen months ago—"
"I know." Delgado's voice was careful.
"We'll get it from Ryan tonight.
Whatever deal the DA needs to make."
My hands were not shaking.
I made them stay still.
"There's one more thing," I said.
"Whoever sent me those messages — they sent me here.
They wanted us to find this."
Delgado looked at me.
"Someone on the inside," I said.
"Someone close to Ryan or Sutter who decided it was time."
"Or someone who was afraid of what Ryan would do next." He picked up the evidence bag.
"Either way, they just handed us everything."
Outside, a car alarm went off two streets over and then stopped.
Delgado's phone rang.
He answered it, listened for four seconds, and looked at me.
May you like
"They found Gregg Sutter," he said.
"He walked into the county sheriff's office twenty minutes ago and asked to make a statement."
