Chapter 5: The Storage Unit
The storage facility sat behind a strip mall on the eastern edge of Denver.
It looked harmless.
Rows of beige metal doors.
A chain-link fence.
A tiny office with faded advertisements taped to the glass.
But Jason kept looking into the rearview mirror as we drove.
Grant sat in the passenger seat.
I sat behind him.
Madison was beside me.
Jason drove.
Neither of us had spoken for several minutes.
Finally, Madison broke the silence.
“Did you ever love me?””
Jason's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Yes.””
“That's not enough.””
“I know.””
“You lied to me for six years.””
“I know.””
“You destroyed my sister.””
Jason swallowed.
“I know.””
Madison looked out the window.
“I don't know who you are.””
Jason's voice dropped.
“Neither do I anymore.””
I watched him.
“You knew the whole time.””
“No.””
“You knew enough.””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of my father?””
Jason nodded.
“And Whitmore.””
“What did they have on you?””
Jason didn't answer.
I leaned forward.
“What did they have on you?””
He finally said, “My brother.””
I stared at him.
“What about him?””
“He was stationed overseas.””
Jason's voice became rough.
“There was an incident. Classified. Whitmore made sure my brother wouldn't be blamed for something that could have ended his career.””
“And you owed him.””
“Yes.””
“So you protected him.””
“At first.””
Jason shook his head.
“Then it became bigger than that.””
The storage facility came into view.
He turned into the parking lot.
We stopped near the office.
Jason killed the engine.
Nobody moved.
Grant looked at him.
“Unit number.””
“317.””
“Key.””
Jason handed it to me.
I got out.
The heat hit like a wall.
We walked between rows of units.
Madison stayed close.
“Rachel.””
I turned.
“What?””
“I need to ask you something.””
“What?””
“If we find proof Dad did this…”
She couldn't finish.
I understood.
She wasn't asking whether I would expose him.
She was asking whether I would destroy the family.
I looked at her.
“Madison, he destroyed it six years ago.””
We reached Unit 317.
Jason inserted the key.
He hesitated.
I noticed.
“What?””
“Nothing.””
“You're afraid.””
“Yes.””
He opened the lock.
The metal door rolled upward.
Dust drifted into the sunlight.
Inside were cardboard boxes.
File cabinets.
A battered desk.
A computer tower.
And a wall covered with photographs.
I stepped inside.
The photographs showed people.
Officers.
Contractors.
Politicians.
Bankers.
My father.
General Whitmore.
Jason.
Daniel Price.
And me.
My stomach dropped.
“Why am I on the wall?””
Jason didn't answer.
I moved closer.
One photograph showed me leaving a naval facility.
Another showed my car.
Another showed me sitting in a restaurant.
Dates were written beneath each picture.
Madison stared.
“They were following you.””
I nodded.
“Why?””
Jason whispered, “Because you were never supposed to discover the original document.””
I turned toward him.
“Then why didn't they stop me?””
“Because they thought you'd break.””
My eyes moved to another photograph.
It showed me standing beside Samuel Reed.
The date was two years ago.
Underneath it was a handwritten note.
*Reed has contacted Morgan. Monitor.*
My blood ran cold.
“Samuel.””
Jason nodded.
“They knew about him.””
“Is he safe?””
Jason looked away.
I grabbed his arm.
“Is he safe?””
“I don't know.””
Grant immediately reached for his radio.
“We need to locate Chief Reed.””
I opened the nearest cabinet.
Folders were arranged by year.
One had my name.
I pulled it out.
Inside were copies of my personnel records.
Medical evaluations.
Performance reports.
Transfer orders.
Private correspondence.
Someone had been collecting everything.
Then I found a document I had never seen.
A handwritten statement.
My father's signature appeared at the bottom.
I read the first paragraph.
My father claimed that I had displayed "increasing emotional instability" before the investigation.
He described arguments I'd never had.
Incidents that never happened.
He had manufactured a psychological profile to make the forged signature believable.
Madison read over my shoulder.
She started shaking.
“He wrote that?””
“Yes.””
“He said you were unstable.””
“He needed them to believe I was.””
A box fell somewhere behind us.
We all turned.
Jason pulled open another cabinet.
Nothing.
Then we heard footsteps outside.
Grant drew his weapon.
“Stay back.””
The footsteps stopped.
Silence.
Then a voice came through the metal wall.
“Jason.””
Jason went pale.
He knew the voice.
“Who is that?””
He didn't answer.
The voice came again.
“You should have burned everything.””
Jason whispered, “Whitmore.””
Grant moved toward the entrance.
“General Whitmore?””
No answer.
Instead, the sound of a vehicle engine roared outside.
Tires screamed against pavement.
Grant ran out.
We followed.
A black SUV was already speeding away.
Grant shouted into his radio.
“Vehicle fleeing eastbound. Black SUV. Get units to—”
Jason suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“Rachel.””
“What?””
“There's another file.””
“Where?””
He pointed toward the desk.
“Underneath.””
I pulled the drawer.
Nothing.
Jason crouched and ran his fingers beneath the wooden frame.
Then he found a hidden latch.
The bottom panel opened.
Inside was a thin envelope.
My name was written across it.
Not in Jason's handwriting.
My father's.
I opened it.
There was only one page.
*Rachel,*
*If you're reading this, then Jason failed to keep you away from the truth.*
My breathing stopped.
Madison leaned over.
I continued.
*I did what I did because I believed I was protecting this family. You were always the strongest of my children, but strength has a price.*
I looked at Madison.
She was crying.
The letter continued.
*Your mother knows everything. She has known since the beginning.*
My fingers went numb.
At the bottom was one final sentence.
*But there is one thing I never told either of you: Jason was not the man who forged your signature.*
I stared at the words.
Jason looked at me.
“I told you,” he whispered.
I slowly lowered the page.
“Then who did?””
Jason's face went white.
Before he could answer, a gunshot cracked across the parking lot.
Madison screamed.
Grant shouted for us to get down.
Glass shattered somewhere outside.
Then Jason collapsed against the wall.
I caught him.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
“Jason!””
He grimaced.
“I'm fine.””
“You've been shot.””
“I noticed.””
Another shot struck the metal door.
We dropped behind the desk.
Grant shouted into his radio.
“Shots fired! Possible armed suspect!””
Jason pressed a hand against his wound.
I looked at him.
“You said you didn't know who forged it.””
“I didn't.””
“But your father-in-law did.””
Jason's breathing became shallow.
“Rachel…”
“Who?””
He stared at me.
“The person who forged your signature…”
May you like
He swallowed.
“…was your mother.””
