Seven Dollars to Borrow a Father

Detective Sarah Coleman hit the floor hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs.

I dropped beside her as another gunshot shattered the silence outside Saint Andrew's Church. Eddie shoved a wooden pew against the side door while I pressed my jacket against the wound in Sarah's shoulder.

"Stay with me," I ordered.

Sarah grimaced.

"You always give orders to people who carry badges?""

"Only the ones who bleed on church floors.""

Despite the pain, she managed a short, bitter laugh.

Then her expression changed.

"Ray, listen to me. You have to get Noah away from Marcus.""

"Why? You just said Marcus was trying to protect him.""

"He was. But he made a deal with Victor nine years ago, and Victor has spent every day since making sure Marcus remembers it.""

"What deal?""

Sarah swallowed hard.

"David's freedom in exchange for the original evidence. Marcus promised to deliver it. He never did.""

I stared at her.

"Why would he risk everything for David?""

"Because David was his best friend, too.""

Outside, footsteps crunched across the gravel.

Eddie looked toward the door.

"Ray, we have company.""

I helped Sarah sit against the pew.

"How many?""

"At least three. Maybe four.""

Sarah reached inside her jacket and pulled out a small black flash drive.

"Take this.""

I hesitated.

"What is it?""

"Everything I managed to save before someone wiped the department's files. Bank transfers, shell companies, recorded conversations. Enough to put Victor away if we can get it to the right people.""

"Why not give it to the FBI?""

"Because the last time I tried to send evidence outside the department, my supervisor warned Victor before the package arrived.""

She gripped my wrist.

"Someone in law enforcement has been protecting him for years.""

A man's voice echoed from the church entrance.

"Detective Coleman, you should have stayed home.""

I recognized Victor Hale immediately.

Sarah closed her eyes.

"He's not supposed to know I'm here.""

"Apparently, he does.""

The door shook as someone slammed against it.

Eddie braced himself against the pew.

"Ray, whatever we're doing, we need to do it now.""

I looked toward the rear of the church. A narrow hallway led to a small utility room, and beyond it was a rear exit I remembered from the building's old floor plan.

"Can you walk?"" I asked Sarah.

"I can crawl if I have to.""

"Let's aim higher than that.""

Eddie helped her stand. I tucked the flash drive into my pocket and grabbed the silver medal from the altar.

The number 219 caught the moonlight.

I had no idea what it meant, but David had specifically instructed me to give it to Sarah.

I pressed it into her palm.

"What's this for?""

"David left it for you.""

Her face changed.

"Where did you find it?""

"Under the cross.""

Sarah stared at the medal as if it were a ghost.

Then she whispered, "Oh, David. You stubborn idiot.""

"What does it mean?""

Before she could answer, the side door burst inward.

A man in a dark jacket stepped through, raising a handgun.

Eddie hurled the pew forward.

It struck the man's legs, sending him crashing into the doorway. The gun skittered across the floor.

"Move!"" Eddie shouted.

We ran down the hallway.

Sarah stumbled twice, leaving blood on the wall. I caught her beneath the arm and kept moving.

Behind us, Victor shouted, "Don't let Dawson leave with that drive!""

We reached the rear exit just as another shot punched through the wooden frame.

Eddie kicked the door open.

Cold air rushed into the hallway.

We emerged behind the church, where an old gravel path wound through the trees toward the road.

My motorcycle was parked near the entrance, but we couldn't reach it without crossing the open grounds.

Eddie pointed toward a maintenance shed.

"There's a truck behind there.""

"Whose truck?""

"Mine.""

I stared at him.

"You drove your truck here?""

"I wasn't planning to chase anybody on a motorcycle with a wounded detective.""

We hurried toward it.

Sarah leaned heavily against me.

"Ray, there's something else you need to know.""

"Can it wait until we're not being shot at?""

"No.""

She stopped beside the shed and looked me directly in the eyes.

"David didn't hide the original evidence in a storage locker. He hid it in a place only someone from your club could access.""

I frowned.

"The old clubhouse?""

She shook her head.

"No. Your old clubhouse was searched nine years ago. Victor found nothing because he was looking in the wrong place.""

"Then where?""

Sarah opened her hand.

The silver medal lay against her palm.

"Number 219 isn't a locker number. It's a case number. David was a witness in a federal investigation that never officially existed.""

I felt my stomach tighten.

"Why would he leave you a medal?""

"Because it belonged to my father. He was a federal agent who investigated Bellhaven Security before he died.""

The pieces began falling into place.

David had trusted Sarah.

Sarah had tried to help him.

And someone inside the police department had made sure neither of them could expose Victor.

But one question still remained.

"Why did David write that he was wrong about the traitor?""

Sarah's eyes filled with tears.

"Because he finally discovered who was feeding Victor information.""

"Who?""

She looked at me.

"Your club's founding president.""

My breath caught.

The man who had built the Iron Wolves before I ever joined. The man whose portrait still hung above the bar in our clubhouse.

"Harold Vance died six years ago," I said.

Sarah shook her head.

"Harold didn't die naturally, Ray. His death was reported as a heart attack, but David discovered he had been killed after trying to withdraw from Victor's operation.""

I stared at her.

"And Marcus knew?""

"He found out the night David disappeared. That's why Victor has been able to control him ever since.""

A vehicle engine roared behind the church.

Eddie opened the truck's passenger door.

"Everybody in. Now.""

I helped Sarah climb inside, then slid into the back seat.

As Eddie started the engine, my phone vibrated.

A message from an unknown number.

*YOU HAVE THE EVIDENCE. WE HAVE THE BOY.*

Attached was a photograph of Noah sitting in a dimly lit room.

He was holding his stuffed bear.