Chapter 11 - The Son His Father Wanted Dead
“MY FATHER IS GOING TO KILL ME, BLAKE. AND I THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY PERSON WHO UNDERSTANDS WHAT HE'S CAPABLE OF.”
Cameron Voss sounded nothing like the arrogant man who had laughed into my wife's phone.
His voice shook.
He was breathing heavily.
And somewhere in the background, I could hear traffic.
I stood beside Naomi inside the federal office.
The call was being documented.
“What do you want, Cameron?”
“Protection.”
I almost laughed.
“Protection?”
“Please.”
I stared at the phone.
“You had men break both my wife's legs. You threatened her life. You laughed at me while she was in surgery.”
Silence.
Then Cameron whispered, “I know.”
“No, you don't.”
“Blake—”
“You don't get to say her name. You don't get to pretend we're two frightened men having the same problem.”
His breathing quickened.
“I can tell you everything.”
Naomi held up one hand.
I stopped speaking.
She leaned toward the phone.
“Cameron, this is Special Agent Naomi Price. If you want to cooperate, we'll arrange for you to surrender safely. You should contact an attorney. Nobody here is promising immunity.”
Cameron hesitated.
“Will I be arrested?”
“Yes,” Naomi replied.
Another silence.
Then he said, “Okay.”
I couldn't believe it.
The man who had spent his entire life escaping consequences was finally afraid of facing them.
Naomi arranged for Cameron to appear at a secured federal facility with counsel.
I was not permitted to participate in the initial interview.
That was probably for the best.
Part of me still wanted to demand that he explain exactly what he'd done to Emily.
Another part understood that no explanation would make it acceptable.
Two hours later, Cameron arrived.
He wore a gray sweatshirt and expensive sneakers.
There was a bruise beneath his right eye.
His blond hair was disheveled.
And he kept looking over his shoulder.
I watched from a separate room as investigators escorted him inside.
He looked smaller than I'd imagined.
Not physically.
Morally.
I'd built him into a monster in my mind.
But there he was.
A frightened twenty-eight-year-old man who had made terrible choices and believed his father's money would protect him forever.
Naomi interviewed him with his attorney present.
Cameron admitted confronting Serena in the parking garage.
He admitted trying to take the financial documents.
He acknowledged that Richard Voss had been present with Sheriff Cole.
And after several painful minutes, he admitted giving Captain Pike instructions to frighten Emily.
Naomi asked whether he had intended for her to be seriously injured.
Cameron lowered his head.
“I told Pike to make her talk.”
“What exactly did you say?”
Cameron stared at the table.
“I said to do whatever it took.”
“And what did you understand that might involve?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Then whispered, “Hurting her.”
Naomi waited.
Cameron's eyes filled with tears.
“I knew they might hurt her.”
“Did you tell them to stop?”
“No.”
“Did you intervene afterward?”
“No.”
“Instead, you threatened her husband?”
He nodded.
I watched through the glass.
My hands trembled.
There it was.
The truth.
Not an accident.
Not a misunderstanding.
Not a wealthy young man who'd simply lost control.
Cameron had known what his orders could mean.
And he'd given them anyway.
He looked toward the ceiling.
“My father told me none of it would matter.”
Naomi leaned forward.
“Explain.”
“He said Cole would handle the reports. Pike would handle the witnesses. The lawyers would handle everything else.”
“Did you believe him?”
Cameron gave a bitter laugh.
“I've believed him my entire life.”
For the first time, I saw something beneath his arrogance.
A lifetime of being taught that consequences were for other people.
Cameron described his father's business dealings.
Voss-controlled companies received public housing funds.
Some provided limited services.
Others existed mainly to move money.
The stolen funds flowed through consulting contracts, construction invoices, and security payments.
Sheriff Cole's network protected the operation from complaints and investigators.
Anyone who asked too many questions became a problem.
Serena was one problem.
Emily became another.
Now Cameron had become the next.
Naomi asked him about Trent.
Cameron nodded.
“My father said he had someone inside the federal investigation. I didn't know his name until recently.”
“Why would your father now want you dead?”
Cameron swallowed.
“Because I kept copies of the records.”
That caught everyone's attention.
Naomi leaned closer.
“What records?”
“Original invoices. Instructions from Cole. Payments signed off by my father.”
“Why did you keep them?”
Cameron looked embarrassed.
“Insurance.”
I shook my head.
Even now, he could barely admit the truth.
He hadn't protected evidence because he wanted justice.
He'd protected it because he feared his father might someday abandon him.
Naomi continued.
“Where are those records?”
Cameron hesitated.
“Some are stored in a private archive at Harbor House.”
“Harbor House?”
“The original paper records were moved there when the foundation reorganized its offices.”
Naomi made a note.
“Who controls access?”
“My father's people.”
“Anything else?”
Cameron looked toward his attorney.
Then back at Naomi.
“My father plans to destroy the records before the next federal search.”
Naomi's expression tightened.
“How?”
Cameron rubbed his hands together.
“I don't know exactly.”
But I could see from his face that he knew more than he wanted to admit.
Naomi waited.
Finally, Cameron whispered, “There was talk about an electrical fire.”
The room fell silent.
I leaned forward.
Harbor House.
The building where Emily had volunteered for years.
Where families slept.
Where children played in the courtyard.
Where Serena first found the courage to ask for help.
Richard Voss intended to destroy the evidence by burning the place down.
I stood so abruptly that my chair scraped across the floor.
Daniel caught my arm.
“Blake.”
I stared at him.
“There are families inside.”
“I know.”
“Children.”
Daniel immediately contacted Naomi's response coordinator.
Emergency services were notified.
Federal investigators began arranging protective measures.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the people at Harbor House.
Some had lost their homes to floods.
Others had escaped abusive relationships.
A few were veterans struggling to rebuild their lives.
They had come to that shelter because they believed it was safe.
Now the man whose foundation helped operate it was preparing to turn it into a trap.
Naomi returned from the interview.
“Cameron is being held. His cooperation will be evaluated, but it doesn't erase his crimes.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
She continued.
“We have teams heading to Harbor House.”
“I'm coming.”
“Blake—”
“My wife knows that building. I've volunteered there. I can help identify the layout and the people who live there.”
Naomi considered that.
“You stay with the civilian support team. Emergency responders control the evacuation.”
“I understand.”
As we left the building, my phone rang.
Emily.
I answered immediately.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Blake, Nora told me something happened at Harbor House.”
I stopped walking.
“We're handling it.”
“Are the families safe?”
“We're going to make sure they are.”
She was quiet.
Then whispered, “There's a little girl named Lily Thompson. She sleeps with a yellow stuffed rabbit. Her mother works nights.”
“I know Grace Thompson.”
“Please make sure Lily gets out.”
I closed my eyes.
“I will.”
We were approaching our vehicles when Naomi's radio crackled.
A dispatcher reported smoke coming from the rear of Harbor House.
Then another voice came through.
“Possible fire. Multiple occupants still inside.”
I looked toward Daniel.
He was already opening the SUV door.
May you like
Then the dispatcher said something that made everyone freeze.
“The building's main alarm system has been disabled.”
