Chapter 4 - AMELIA’S VOICE
I listened with Rebecca present.
That mattered.
I wasn’t going to carry evidence around town like an amateur detective.
The recording began with Gordon.
Then Vance.
Then Amelia.
Her voice was unmistakable.
Gordon said:
“Mercer’s military connection gives us a problem.”
Vance answered:
“Then use it.”
Amelia interrupted.
“No.”
Gordon laughed.
“You got a better idea?”
“Leave Logan out of this.”
“Your husband already started asking questions.”
“He doesn’t know anything.”
“Keep it that way.”
Then Amelia said:
“If you put his name on anything, I’m done.”
Gordon answered:
“You’ve been done since the first invoice you approved.”
The recording ended.
I sat in Rebecca’s temporary office.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“But she was trying to protect me.”
“Also yes.”
Both truths existed.
That was becoming irritatingly common.
I confronted Amelia that night.
She didn’t deny it.
“I approved three false invoices.”
“Why?”
“The first one looked legitimate.”
“And the other two?”
“Gordon showed me the first approval and said if I refused, he’d make it look like I created the entire system.”
“So you kept signing.”
“Three times.”
“Then?”
“I stopped.”
“And started hiding it from me.”
“Yes.”
I walked away.
She followed.
“I was going to fix it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not fixing it.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you trust me?”
Her answer came quietly.
“Because you solve things.”
I turned.
“What does that mean?”
“You hear a problem and immediately attack it.”
“I’m not attacking anything.”
“You called JAG while strawberry milk was still dripping off your shirt.”
“Vance assaulted me.”
“And three minutes later federal attorneys knew his badge number.”
I almost smiled.
She didn’t.
“I was afraid you’d go after Gordon and Vance before I could protect Caleb.”
“So instead you let them build evidence against me.”
Her face collapsed.
“I didn’t know about the fake company.”
That I believed.
Then she said:
“There’s something else.”
Of course there was.
“Gordon keeps two accounting systems.”
“One real, one fake?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The real records are offline.”
“Location?”
“I don’t know.”
“But?”
“He moves them every Friday.”
“How?”
“A black document case.”
“Who takes it?”
She hesitated.
“Sheriff Vance.”
That Friday, nobody followed Vance.
We did it properly.
The relevant investigators obtained authority and handled surveillance.
I stayed home.
It was miserable.
At 11:43 p.m., Rebecca called.
“They found the case.”
“And?”
“Cash records. Freight manifests. Payments.”
“Enough?”
“Potentially.”
“Amelia?”
A pause.
“There are payments to her.”
I closed my eyes.
“How much?”
“Twenty-seven thousand.”
Amelia heard.
She whispered:
“No.”
Rebecca continued.
“The account is in Amelia’s name.”
My wife grabbed the phone.
“I never opened another account.”
Rebecca said:
“Then we prove that.”
Amelia looked at me.
I wanted to comfort her.
I couldn’t.
Not yet.
Then Rebecca said:
“Logan, there’s something stranger.”
“What?”
“The account was opened twelve years ago.”
Amelia and I had been married eleven.
“Who opened it?”
“The original paperwork lists Amelia.”
She shook her head violently.
“No.”
Rebecca continued.
“And Raymond Vance.”
I looked at Amelia.
She stopped breathing.
May you like
Because twelve years ago, before she became my wife, Sheriff Raymond Vance had been more than a corrupt cop she feared.
He had been her fiancé.
