He shook his head and smiled.
I had just one more question.
“But how did you know Chase had ripped them off? How did you find out it wasn’t just a normal investment gone wrong?”
“When I went to pick up Millie one day, I overheard Chase on the phone talking about what he did to those men. He set up fake companies in other countries, and then took the money. It was a scam. It was all a scam. I took that information to the police, but they said they didn’t have enough to charge him with it. All the companies were outside of their jurisdiction. He’s the real criminal. Not me.”
Damon gestured to a messy pile of papers on the desk. “It’s all there. I can’t afford to pay you, you know that, but I think you’re an honest person. I have a feeling about you. I’d appreciate it if you would take the information and see if you can do anything to help those poor people that Chase ripped off. There’s nothing more I can do now. I gave it my best shot. And it would have worked had it not been for you, Mr. Valentine. I guess in the end you were just too good for me. You’ve got your man and you’ve solved the case. But please, grant this old dying man a final wish, take a look at those papers and see what you can do to help those people. Those who need it most.”
I thought for a few moments before nodding. It was the least I could do.
I gathered up the papers before continuing.
“Sir, it’s time to go.”
He forced another smile, and then stood proudly. He led me out of the door, and I couldn’t help but feel heartbroken for the man. He was a hero, a hard worker, an honorable person, and he had been ripped off by people like Chase Martin. He had been ripped off by life. And this was all that was left for him.
I walked out with Damon in front of me but as we stepped out of the front door, he stopped.
There was a light rain falling now, refreshing and cleansing after the tension of the day.
“I forgot my jacket.” Damon turned to me, a tear in his eye. He was shaking slightly. “Do you mind if I go back inside the workshop and get it?”
I knew what that meant.
I knew there was no jacket.
I nodded, and he turned.
“Wait.” I stopped him and held out my hand to shake his. “Thank you for your service to our country.”
He hesitated, and then shook my hand with all the strength he had left. It was a frail grip, but one filled with pride.
He gave me a nod, pulled his shoulders back, and walked back into the warehouse.
I didn’t wait. I began walking down the driveway, back towards the car.
As I took my phone out of my pocket, ready to call Casey, the sound of a gunshot snapped through the silent night.
I sighed and hung my head.
Turning back to the dark building and with a heavy heart, I made the sign of the cross.
“Damon Hardy. May you rest in peace.”
Chapter 29
Five minutes until drop.
I was parked in my truck, watching the scene for any sign of a giveaway. The rain had cleared from earlier, giving everything a fresh feel as if the air itself had been washed clean. I had a perfect view of what I needed to see, the park, the bench where the drop was to be made, and of Chase.
Chase was ready, waiting at the edge of the park. Even in the dark, I could see he was edgy, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to pace but I’d told him not to move from that spot until I gave him the word. Dressed in black, he had the bag in his left hand, a small knife in his right. He didn’t own a gun. Never even had fired one. He said that he never trusted himself with them and didn’t want them in his house. I didn’t try to talk him out of taking the knife, even though I knew it was a bad idea, he would have done it anyway, and at least this way I was prepared for what he might do.
We had talked earlier and I told him to keep calm. I told him to focus on his breath when things seemed overwhelming. I repeated over and over that no amount of money was worth the life of his daughter. He looked confused at first, but after thirty minutes of talking, he reluctantly agreed with my point of view. I’d set him up with an earpiece, and I had the microphone clipped to the top of my shirt. To reassure him, to make sure he kept to the plan, and to try and prevent him from bolting into the night with the cash.
I informed him that we were dealing with dangerous people. People that were willing to kill for the money. To kill Millie but also kill him. Chase was scared, no doubt about that, but he was most fearful of losing the money he illegitimately gained. We had never talked about the details of his business, we never talked about how he raised the money to live the lifestyle he lived. It was clear to me all along that he was corrupt, it was clear that he didn’t have a moral bone in his body, but that didn’t matter because the life of an innocent girl was at stake. Millie Martin had never done anything wrong, never betrayed anyone, and she didn’t deserve to be punished for her father’s immoral deeds.
Chase’s evasion of the FBI was a
