Chapter 6 - The Boy They Used as Bait
“YOU CAN'T TAKE MY BROTHER! HE HASN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG!”
The woman's voice echoed through the small federal interview room.
Serena Ortiz stood near the table, gripping the back of a chair.
Her dark brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail.
There were healing bruises beneath her left eye.
And she looked like someone who had spent three weeks sleeping with one eye open.
It had taken investigators nearly a day to locate her.
The breakthrough came from Harbor House.
A former resident named Grace Thompson remembered Serena asking about a trusted attorney who assisted families escaping domestic violence.
That attorney had quietly helped Serena find a temporary place to stay.
When federal agents finally contacted her, Serena refused to leave until they promised to investigate her brother's situation.
Now she sat across from Naomi, shaking with anger.
“Sheriff Cole put Nico in county custody because I wouldn't sign a false statement,” she said.
Naomi spoke gently.
“Serena, we're working to establish his exact location and legal status. We're not going to pretend we have him safe until we actually do.”
Serena wiped her eyes.
“They told me if I said Cameron attacked me, Nico would be charged with drugs they found in his school locker.”
“Were they his?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he was home sick that day. He wasn't even at school.”
I sat beside Daniel, listening.
There was something painfully familiar about Serena's fear.
Different circumstances.
Different people.
But the same cruelty.
Men with power had identified the person she loved most.
Then they used that love against her.
Naomi leaned forward.
“Serena, your brother's custody order is being reviewed by federal and state authorities. We need your help establishing what happened.”
Serena looked toward me.
“You're Emily's husband?”
I nodded.
“My name is Blake.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I tried to warn her.”
I didn't speak.
“She kept telling me we could find someone honest. Someone who would listen.”
I swallowed.
“That sounds like her.”
Serena covered her face.
“Cameron said if I didn't get the recording back, he'd make sure she paid for it.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Did you tell Emily?”
“I called her. She didn't answer.”
She began crying.
“I thought she was ignoring me. Then I heard what happened.”
I moved my chair closer.
“Serena, look at me.”
She lowered her hands.
“What happened to Emily is not your fault.”
She shook her head.
“But she got involved because of me.”
“She got involved because she saw someone being hurt and refused to look away.”
Serena stared at me.
I continued.
“That's who my wife is.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Serena whispered, “She's the bravest person I've ever met.”
I looked down at the sunflower pendant hanging from my fingers.
“So have I.”
Naomi placed a folder on the table.
“Serena, we need to talk about the financial records.”
Serena's expression changed.
She nodded.
“I worked for a county contractor that reviewed emergency housing grants.”
She explained that Richard Voss's charitable foundation had received substantial government funding after severe flooding displaced hundreds of Virginia families.
Harbor House was supposed to provide temporary apartments, transportation, counseling, and employment assistance.
Instead, Serena discovered inflated invoices, duplicate billing, and payments to companies that appeared to exist only on paper.
One contractor had billed the county for seventy furnished apartments.
Serena personally inspected the listed building.
It contained only twenty-four.
Another company claimed to operate a transportation service for displaced families.
Its registered address was an empty office above a pawn shop.
She reported the irregularities internally.
Her supervisor told her to stop asking questions.
Then she discovered transfers to a private security company connected to Sheriff Cole's longtime associates.
“And that's when Cameron came after you?” Naomi asked.
Serena nodded.
“I copied the records before they could erase them.”
“Where are those copies?”
Serena reached into her purse.
She removed a small padded envelope.
Inside were two storage devices.
One contained financial documents.
The other held Emily's original parking-garage recording.
Naomi looked at them carefully.
“We'll document how you obtained these and have our forensic team preserve and authenticate the files.”
Serena nodded.
“I haven't changed anything.”
Ethan, who had joined us to help organize the records at Naomi's request, looked toward me.
“Blake, your wife may have recorded the one thing they've spent years hiding.”
I stared at the envelope.
A tiny piece of plastic.
Something that could fit in the palm of my hand.
And people had nearly died over it.
Hours later, Naomi returned with preliminary findings.
The video clearly showed Cameron assaulting Serena.
Richard Voss appeared nearby.
Sheriff Cole stood beside him.
Their conversation was partially audible.
More importantly, the financial documents matched federal payment records investigators had already been examining.
Serena wasn't imagining the fraud.
She had found evidence of it.
And the amounts were staggering.
More than eighteen million dollars in public funds had passed through suspicious transactions.
I stared at the figures.
Eighteen million dollars.
I thought about the families Emily helped at Harbor House.
Children sleeping on folding cots.
Parents searching for work.
Elderly people who had lost everything in the floods.
Those people had trusted the system to help them rebuild.
Instead, Richard Voss had apparently turned their suffering into another business opportunity.
Naomi entered with an update on Nico.
“State authorities have intervened. The transfer has been suspended pending judicial review, and Nico is being moved to a location outside Sheriff Cole's control.”
Serena covered her mouth.
“Can I see him?”
“As soon as arrangements are safe, yes.”
She began crying again.
This time, from relief.
I called Emily immediately.
When she answered, her voice sounded stronger.
“Blake?”
“We found Serena.”
A long silence followed.
Then Emily whispered, “Thank God.”
“And Nico is being protected.”
I heard her exhale.
“That boy doesn't deserve any of this.”
“No, he doesn't.”
“Neither does Serena.”
I looked through the interview room window.
Serena was sitting beside Naomi, carefully explaining another section of the records.
“No,” I said. “She doesn't.”
Emily was quiet for a moment.
Then she asked, “Did you find the recording?”
“Yes.”
“Does it show Richard?”
“It does.”
Her voice trembled.
“Then maybe they'll finally believe us.”
I closed my eyes.
“Sweetheart, I believe you.”
She started crying softly.
And I realized how much she had needed to hear those words.
Not that the evidence was strong.
Not that the case might succeed.
But that her own husband believed what had happened to her.
Later that evening, Daniel called me into a conference room.
The financial investigators had identified several payments to a security company called Meridian Protective Services.
One transfer was made less than six hours before Emily's assault.
The amount was forty-five thousand dollars.
Its internal reference code was short.
E.D.
A second document listed Captain Graham Pike as the person approving the payment.
I stared at the screen.
“E.D.?”
Daniel nodded.
“Emily Dean.”
My hands went cold.
The evidence suggested that the men responsible for attacking my wife had been paid in advance.
This wasn't an argument that had gotten out of control.
It wasn't a warning that had gone too far.
Someone had planned it.
Someone had put a price on my wife's suffering.
Naomi entered the room holding another file.
“We found something else.”
Daniel looked up.
“What?”
She placed a photograph on the table.
It showed a formal document authorizing the emergency transport of Emily from St. Jude's Medical Center.
At the bottom was the signature of a county magistrate.
Naomi pointed to the name.
“Judge Harold Whitcomb.”
I frowned.
“Who is he?”
Naomi's voice became very quiet.
“He was a respected county magistrate.”
“Was?”
She looked directly at me.
“Blake, Judge Whitcomb died eighteen months ago.”
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Someone had used a dead man's authority to kidnap my wife.
And whoever created that document had access to records that should have been protected inside the courthouse.
