Chapter 2 - MY WIFE’S NAME
I didn’t confront Amelia in the parking lot.
That was what Vance wanted.
He stood beneath the diner awning watching us like a man waiting for entertainment.
I got into my truck.
Amelia opened the passenger door.
“Move over.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Take your car.”
“Logan.”
“I need space.”
Her face hardened.
“There. That’s exactly what you do.”
“What?”
“Shut down.”
“You just watched a sheriff pour a milkshake over my head.”
“I told him not to.”
“When?”
She froze.
Before.
She had told him before.
I leaned toward the open door.
“When did you tell him not to?”
“Logan—”
“Before today?”
She looked toward Vance.
That was enough.
I closed the door.
Major Sloan called before I reached the highway.
“Where are you?”
“Driving.”
“Pull over.”
I did.
“What’s in the package?”
“Financial records.”
“What kind?”
“Defense contracting invoices.”
I knew immediately.
My reserve assignment had put me near an investigation involving Halcyon Tactical Systems, a Virginia-based contractor supplying communications equipment to National Guard units across three states.
Overbilling.
Ghost deliveries.
Equipment invoiced twice.
I had reviewed logistics records.
Nothing more.
At least that was what I thought.
“Why Amelia?”
“Her company.”
My stomach tightened.
Amelia worked as accounting manager for Blackridge Freight Cooperative.
A small regional trucking operation.
“What about it?”
“Blackridge Freight transported Halcyon shipments.”
“So?”
“Some shipments never existed.”
I stared through the windshield.
“Are you saying Amelia created false freight records?”
“I’m saying her login appears on them.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
I appreciated Rebecca for saying it.
“What did Vance seize?”
“A duplicate evidence package sent through an Army Reserve courier.”
“Why would a county sheriff touch it?”
“Traffic stop.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
“And the original?”
“Secure.”
“What exactly is my role?”
“Right now? Witness.”
“Right now?”
“Logan, don’t investigate your wife.”
I almost laughed.
“You know me better than that.”
“That’s exactly why I’m saying it.”
When I reached home, Amelia was already there.
Her car sat crooked in the driveway.
Inside, she stood at the kitchen counter.
“I didn’t steal anything.”
I put my keys down.
“I didn’t accuse you.”
“You called JAG.”
“Vance assaulted me.”
“This isn’t about a milkshake.”
“No.”
She looked exhausted.
“What do they have?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
Amelia sat.
“Blackridge Freight was billing Halcyon for routes we never drove.”
“Who knew?”
“My boss.”
“Name.”
“Gordon Pike.”
I knew Gordon.
Everybody in Blackridge did.
Chamber of Commerce.
Little League sponsor.
Church fundraiser.
The kind of man whose photograph appeared beside giant checks in the local newspaper.
“And Vance?”
“He protects Gordon.”
“How?”
“Traffic records. Inspection logs. Anything that could expose nonexistent shipments.”
“And you?”
“I found the discrepancies six months ago.”
“Why didn’t you report them?”
“I tried.”
“To whom?”
“Vance.”
I stared at her.
“You reported corruption to the man protecting it?”
“I didn’t know.”
“What happened?”
“He told Gordon.”
Of course.
“Then?”
“Gordon told me if I quit, the missing money would be tied to my login.”
“How much?”
She whispered:
“Almost two million.”
I sat across from her.
“And Thursday night?”
Her eyes dropped.
“Vance called me.”
“Why?”
“He said the military had sent evidence through his county.”
“The package.”
“Yes.”
“He wanted you to identify it?”
“He wanted me to tell him what was inside.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then why were you with him?”
“Because he said if I didn’t come, he’d arrest my brother.”
I stopped.
“Caleb?”
She nodded.
“For what?”
“Possession.”
“Caleb’s been sober three years.”
“I know.”
“So Vance threatened to plant drugs?”
“He didn’t say it that clearly.”
“He didn’t need to.”
I looked at my wife.
“Why humiliate me today?”
“I think he wanted to see whether you knew.”
“And you helped him.”
Her eyes filled.
“I was trying to make you leave.”
“By calling me embarrassing?”
“I needed you not to react.”
“You could have told me.”
“I was scared.”
“So you made me the only person in the room who didn’t understand what was happening.”
She had no answer.
My phone rang.
Rebecca again.
“We found something in the original package.”
“What?”
“A handwritten freight ledger.”
“Gordon’s?”
“We don’t know.”
“What’s in it?”
“Payment initials.”
“Whose?”
“Several.”
She paused.
“One is R.V.”
Raymond Vance.
“And?”
“Another is A.M.”
Amelia Miller.
I looked at my wife.
She saw the answer in my face.
Then Rebecca said:
“Logan, there’s a third set of initials you need to know.”
“What?”
“L.M.”
May you like
My initials.
Someone had put my name in the corruption ledger too.
