Chapter 8 - The Girl in the Parking Garage
Brooke reached Ethan through the student newspaper’s public email because Grant had taken her phone.
Her message contained seven words.
Level four. Jefferson garage. Come alone. 8:30.
Ethan immediately forwarded it to Harris.
Harris called within thirty seconds.
“You are not going alone.”
“I know.”
“You’re not going at all.”
“She might know where Lena is.”
“And she might be bait.”
“You think Brooke wrote it?”
“I think we verify first.”
At 8:27, Harris sat in an unmarked car across from the Jefferson parking garage.
Two other officers waited nearby.
Ethan stood beside the elevator on level four.
Harris had objected until Ethan pointed out Brooke might disappear if she saw police first.
The compromise was simple.
Harris stayed within sight.
Ethan wore a small recorder.
At 8:36, Brooke emerged from the stairwell.
Her hair was tied back.
No makeup.
No designer jacket.
She looked almost unfamiliar.
“You told the cops.”
“Yes.”
“I said alone.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
That answer surprised him.
Brooke looked toward the ramps.
“We have maybe five minutes.”
“Where is Lena?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Then why am I here?”
“My dad said the lake property was compromised. He told someone to use ‘the freight location.’”
Ethan stared at her.
“Someone?”
“I couldn’t hear them.”
“Mercer?”
“Probably.”
“Probably isn’t evidence.”
Brooke gave him a bitter smile.
“You sound like Harris.”
“I’ve been listening.”
She pulled the cracked smartwatch from her pocket.
“I recorded part of it.”
Ethan did not touch it.
“Give it to Harris.”
“I will.”
“Why me first?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Because I needed to know whether you’d actually protect Lena or just destroy my family.”
Ethan almost laughed.
“Your family?”
“I know how that sounds.”
“No. You really don’t.”
Brooke looked away.
“I told Lena to meet me.”
Ethan’s anger sharpened instantly.
“She disappeared after meeting you.”
“My dad told me she had stolen confidential records.”
“So you lured her.”
“I thought Mercer was going to take her phone.”
“You watched him put her in the SUV.”
Brooke’s face went pale.
Ethan understood.
“You did.”
“I yelled at him.”
“Did you call police?”
“No.”
“Her parents?”
“No.”
“You went home.”
Brooke’s eyes filled.
“My father told me she’d be back.”
“And you believed him for six days?”
“For the first night.”
Ethan stepped away from her.
“What happened after?”
“I asked too many questions. He told me if Lena got hurt, it would be because I brought her there.”
“You did bring her there.”
Brooke flinched.
“I know.”
Ethan wanted to hate her cleanly.
It would have been easier.
But Brooke was not pretending innocence.
She was terrified.
And guilty.
Those were not the same as innocent.
“Why did you humiliate me yesterday?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Because my father told me you were helping Lena.”
“So you decided to prove him right?”
“I thought if everyone laughed at you, you’d stop acting like you mattered.”
The cruelty of it hung between them.
Ethan nodded slowly.
“At least that part was honest.”
Brooke wiped at one eye.
“I’m sorry.”
“Save it for Lena.”
Footsteps sounded from the stairwell.
Brooke froze.
A man appeared.
Not Grant.
Wade Mercer.
Ethan recognized him from the photograph Harris had shown him.
Broad shoulders.
Shaved head.
Dark windbreaker.
Mercer stopped twenty feet away.
“Brooke.”
She backed toward Ethan.
“How did you find me?”
Mercer held up a phone.
“Your father worries.”
Harris moved from behind a concrete pillar.
“Police. Hands where I can see them.”
Mercer’s expression changed.
Two officers appeared from the opposite ramp.
Mercer raised his hands.
“I’m just here to bring a minor home.”
Brooke laughed breathlessly.
“I’m seventeen.”
“And your father asked me to find you.”
Harris stepped closer.
“Turn around.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet.”
Mercer obeyed.
Harris took the smartwatch from Brooke.
“You recorded Grant?”
She nodded.
“Part of a conversation.”
Harris looked at Mercer.
“Where is Lena Ortiz?”
Mercer smiled.
“No idea.”
Brooke stared at him.
“You put her in your SUV.”
“Did I?”
“My bracelet was in it.”
“Then maybe you were in my SUV.”
Harris’s eyes hardened.
“You can explain that downtown.”
Mercer’s smile did not disappear.
“You don’t have enough.”
“We’ll see.”
As an officer led him away, Mercer looked over his shoulder at Brooke.
“Your father’s going to be disappointed.”
Brooke’s face collapsed.
Ethan watched her.
“He can’t hurt you here.”
She gave him a hollow look.
“You still don’t understand.”
“What?”
“My father doesn’t need to touch anyone.”
She pulled another object from her pocket.
A black plastic access card.
“I took this from his desk.”
Printed across the bottom were four words:
NORTH LAKE SERVICE RESIDENCE.
And on the back, in Grant Hayes’s handwriting:
May you like
FREIGHT — UNIT 12.
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