Chapter 4 - The Digital Ghost
I stood in Sheriff Miller's mobile command unit parked at the end of my driveway, watching the tiny screen on his digital monitor.
The video file was grainy, recorded from the angle of my father's motorized scooter parked near the hallway closet three nights ago. The timestamp in the corner read 11:42 PM, Tuesday.
On the screen, my mother could be seen standing outside the master bedroom door, holding a ring of keys. My brother Derek stood beside her, looking nervous, wearing his Vance Logistics work uniform.
"She won't sign the non-disclosure agreement, Mom," Derek's recorded voice rasped through the speaker. "Vance said if she goes to the state prosecutor about the manifest records she found in Alex's truck, we're all going to prison. Vance will shut down the firm and pin the illegal toxic dumping on Alex!"
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
The video continued. My mother's face on the screen was cold, devoid of any maternal warmth. "Alex doesn't know anything about the manifests. He just drives the routes. But Clara went snooping through his cab when he came home last week. She took the ledger!"
"What do we do?" Derek asked, wringing his hands.
"Unlock the door," my mother ordered cold-bloodedly. "Get the ledger back from her. If she resists, Vance said he'll handle the rest. He's driving over here right now."
The video showed Derek kicking the bedroom door open. Off-camera, Clara screamed. The sound of breaking glass and a violent struggle echoed down the hallway. Seconds later, my mother walked into the room, retrieved Clara's phone from the floor, turned off the hallway lights, and locked the bedroom door from the outside using a brass skeleton key.
I slammed my fist against the side of the command trailer, denting the aluminum wall.
"They set me up," I whispered, my voice shaking with pure fury. "Vance gave me that three-day 'high-security logistics run' to get me out of the state! He sent me to Maine with a trailer full of dummy cargo so I'd be hundreds of miles away while they terrorized my wife!"
"And Clara found out that Vance Logistics was illegally hauling hazardous chemical waste into the local watershed," Sheriff Miller realized, tapping the table. "She kept the manifest ledger to protect you from taking the fall."
"Where is Vance now?" I demanded, turning on Miller.
"He's currently at his estate on the ridge," Miller replied. "We're drafting an arrest warrant right now based on this video evidence and your brother's statement."
Suddenly, the side door of the trailer burst open. Deputy Hayes rushed in, his face pale.
"Sheriff! We've got a problem at the county morgue transport!" Hayes panted. "The coroner's van was just broadsided at the intersection of Route 9 by a heavy semi-truck!"
My heart stopped. "What about Clara's body?!"
"The truck driver fled the scene in a black SUV," Hayes said. "And Sheriff... the semi-truck that rammed the coroner's van was a Vance Logistics eighteen-wheeler!"
They weren't just trying to cover up a murder. Vance was actively trying to destroy the evidence—Clara's body—before an official autopsy could prove she didn't hang herself.
I turned and sprinted toward my truck.
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"Alex, stay back! Let us handle this!" Miller shouted, chasing after me.
"He tried to frame me, he murdered my wife, and now he's trying to steal her body!" I yelled back, slamming my truck door shut and throwing the engine into gear. "I'm ending this tonight!"
