Chapter 6 - THE MAN ABOVE THE LAWDeputy Chief Warren Price descended the basement stairs slowly.
His gun never moved from my chest.
Rebecca stopped struggling.
I raised my hands.
“I don't have the drive.”
Price smiled.
“That was your first mistake.”
“You already searched Natalie.”
“We searched what she had with her.”
“Then maybe she never had it.”
“That’s what Raymond thinks.”
“And you?”
“I think your wife is smarter than her brother gave her credit for.”
I looked toward Rebecca.
“How are you involved?”
Price’s smile faded.
“She isn't.”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“That’s the first true thing you've said in years.”
Price ignored her.
He approached me.
“Phone.”
I handed over my personal phone.
He smashed it against the concrete floor.
Then he patted me down.
His hand stopped against the transmitter.
He removed it.
Looked at it.
Then dropped it beneath his boot.
Crack.
“Tell Marcus he needs better equipment.”
My earpiece was still barely functioning.
Through bursts of static, I could hear Hale ordering units forward.
Price heard it too.
He yanked the earpiece from my ear.
“You've got about ninety seconds before your friends arrive.”
“Then you're finished.”
“Maybe.”
He didn't sound afraid.
That scared me.
He pointed the gun toward Rebecca.
“Where is the original drive?”
“I don't know.”
“Wrong answer.”
I moved between them.
Price's eyes narrowed.
“Don't be heroic.”
“You shoot either of us, police hear it.”
“They already know I'm here.”
I stared.
“You don't intend to get away.”
“I intend to survive.”
From upstairs came the sound of engines.
Then shouting.
Price smiled.
“Right on schedule.”
An explosion of gunfire erupted outside.
I threw myself down.
Rebecca screamed.
Price retreated up the stairs.
Seconds later, Hale’s tactical team entered the cabin.
But Price was gone.
A rear door stood open.
Outside, tire tracks disappeared into the woods.
Police found a hidden ATV trail leading away from the property.
Price had prepared his escape long before we arrived.
Rebecca was freed.
I expected relief.
Instead she grabbed Hale by the shirt.
“Natalie has less than a day.”
“Why?”
“Because Raymond believes she knows where the drive is.”
“What happens after he gets it?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“He kills her.”
No one spoke.
At the command post, Rebecca told us everything.
Fifteen years earlier, Raymond had begun working for Brent Cole.
At first, simple fraud.
Fake invoices.
Insurance scams.
Stolen identities.
Rebecca discovered what he was doing.
She threatened to expose him.
Raymond convinced her to meet privately.
Then used their mother as leverage.
“He told me if I disappeared, everybody stayed safe.”
“So you agreed to let your family think you were dead?” I asked.
Rebecca lowered her eyes.
“At twenty-one, I thought running away would solve everything.”
Raymond gave her cash and a new identity.
For years, she stayed silent.
Then her father died.
She tried contacting Natalie.
Raymond intercepted her.
The threats started again.
Eventually, Rebecca found evidence that Raymond and Cole were laundering money through public construction contracts.
Deputy Chief Price protected them.
Sergeant Mercer erased records.
Natalie discovered Rebecca was alive after finding an old email.
The twins secretly reunited.
That explained everything.
The cabin.
The secrecy.
Natalie’s terror.
Rebecca wiped tears from her cheeks.
“She was trying to finish what I was too afraid to finish.”
I wanted to blame Rebecca.
For disappearing.
For dragging Natalie into it.
For keeping secrets.
But I looked at her scar.
The thinness of her wrists.
The fear she still carried fifteen years later.
Raymond hadn't simply manipulated his sisters.
He had built their entire adult lives around fear.
“Where would he take Natalie?” Hale asked.
Rebecca shook her head.
“Cole owns properties everywhere.”
“What about Price?”
“Price has been planning to leave for months.”
“Leave where?”
“Mexico, maybe.”
Hale put several maps on the table.
Rebecca studied them.
Nothing.
Then I remembered something.
“Airfield.”
Everyone looked at me.
“Raymond once mentioned a private airfield.”
“When?”
“Two years ago. Thanksgiving. He said a friend stored planes somewhere south of Norman.”
Rebecca’s face changed.
“Cole.”
“What?”
“Brent owns a crop-dusting company.”
Within minutes, investigators identified a rural airstrip registered to Cole Agricultural Services.
Forty-six miles away.
Surveillance arrived first.
One hangar.
Two trucks.
A small twin-engine plane.
Thermal imaging showed several people inside.
Hale looked at me.
“You stay here.”
This time I didn't argue.
I had almost ruined the previous operation by going into that basement.
For once, I listened.
The next ninety minutes were the longest of my life.
Then Hale received a radio transmission.
Officers had entered the hangar.
Brent Cole was arrested.
Sergeant Mercer surrendered.
Two additional men were detained.
Raymond wasn't there.
Neither was Price.
Neither was Natalie.
But they found Natalie’s coat.
And blood on the sleeve.
I walked outside and vomited.
At sunrise, forensic technicians processed the hangar.
Inside a trash can, they found handwritten directions.
A rural address.
Rebecca recognized it instantly.
“Our grandfather’s farm.”
Raymond had inherited part of the property after their father died.
Police mobilized.
Before they left, Rebecca grabbed my arm.
“There’s something you need to know.”
“What?”
“The farmhouse has an old storm cellar.”
“So?”
“It isn't on any modern property plans.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Where is it?”
“Under the barn.”
Hale heard.
That changed the operation.
At 8:36 a.m., police surrounded the property.
A drone crossed over the barn.
A thermal camera picked up two heat signatures below ground.
One standing.
One lying down.
Hale looked at me.
“We found them.”
My knees nearly gave out.
But then the drone operator spoke.
“Movement near the north field.”
A black SUV was speeding away.
Police vehicles pursued.
Hale radioed the entry team.
Seconds later, officers breached the barn.
They opened the hidden storm cellar.
One woman was inside.
Alive.
Bound.
Injured.
But alive.
“Is it Natalie?”
Hale waited.
Then nodded.
My entire body collapsed with relief.
They had found my wife.
But the relief lasted only seconds.
Because the second heat signature wasn't Raymond.
It was Deputy Chief Price.
He was lying on the floor beside Natalie.
Shot once in the chest.
And before paramedics loaded him into an ambulance, Price managed to tell Detective Hale who had pulled the trigger.
Raymond.
Then he added one final warning.
“Don't let him reach Daniel’s house.”
Hale stared at him.
“Why?”
Price coughed.
“Because the drive was never in the locker.”
He looked directly at me.
May you like
“It’s hidden inside that house.”
And Raymond knew exactly where.
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