“No,” Hayes replied. “You have the right to obtain legal counsel.”
That was when I knew this wasn’t merely an old family secret.
Something much bigger was happening.
Something the Navy had been investigating without telling me.
The adjoining conference room smelled of coffee and furniture polish.
A large American flag stood beside the window.
Daniel closed the door.
For several seconds, we stared at each other.
Then I crossed the room and pulled him into my arms.
He held on tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I stepped back.
“For what?”
“For letting you believe I was dead.”
My anger came fast.
“You let me write a letter to your mother.”
His expression crumpled.
“I know.”
“I attended your memorial service.”
“I know.”
“I spent four years wondering whether there was something I could’ve done differently.”
Daniel lowered his eyes.
“There wasn’t.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
He looked toward Hayes.
The admiral gave a small nod.
Daniel took a breath.
“After the explosion, I regained consciousness in an underground facility. Someone had recovered me before our rescue team arrived.”
“Who?”
“Men working for Helix Defense Solutions.”
I frowned.
Helix was a major military contractor.
Communications systems.
Surveillance technology.
Advanced tactical equipment.
And fifteen years ago, the company’s founder had been a close friend of my father.
Victor Sloane.
A name I hadn’t spoken aloud since the night I left home.
Daniel continued.
“They weren’t enemy combatants, Erin. They were Americans operating a private facility overseas.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“They wanted information about the source of an internal investigation. They believed I knew who had provided evidence about their equipment failures.”
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
“Did you?”
Daniel nodded.
“My father.”
Caitlyn looked between us.
“What does any of this have to do with Dad?”
Daniel reached into his jacket and removed a folded photograph.
He placed it on the conference table.
The picture showed three men standing beside a helicopter.
One was Victor Sloane.
Another was Andrew Cross.
The third was my father.
On the back, written in faded blue ink, were four words.
Before the truth disappeared.
I had seen that photograph before.
Fifteen years ago.
Inside the envelope my father accused me of stealing.
“Where did you get this?” I asked.
“From my father’s belongings.”
I touched the photograph with trembling fingers.
“My father said I was lying.”
Daniel’s expression darkened.
“I know.”
“He said the invoices were ordinary procurement records.”
“I know.”
“He said I didn’t understand military business.”
Daniel looked directly at me.
“Erin, you understood enough to recognize what everyone else wanted buried.”
I sank into a chair.
Fifteen years.
Fifteen years of being treated as the daughter who had betrayed her father’s trust.
Fifteen years of birthdays missed.
Christmases ignored.
Phone calls unanswered.
All because I’d confronted my father about paperwork I found accidentally while helping him move files from his home office.
“Tell me everything,” I whispered.
Daniel sat across from me.
“Fifteen years ago, Helix delivered a communications system to a Navy unit. The system had serious security vulnerabilities. My father found evidence that the company knew about those vulnerabilities before delivery.”
Hayes stepped forward.
“Commander Cross raised concerns through official channels.”
“What happened?”
“His report disappeared.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Three weeks later, he was dead.”
Caitlyn covered her mouth.
I remembered the newspaper article.
The helicopter accident.
The investigation that concluded mechanical failure.
My father’s strange silence when I asked questions.
And the envelope containing invoices, photographs, and handwritten notes.
“Dad said Andrew Cross was reckless,” I murmured.
Daniel shook his head.
“He was trying to protect people.”
I looked at Hayes.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
The admiral hesitated.
And that hesitation frightened me more than anything else.
“Because we’ve recovered new evidence,” he said. “Evidence connecting the original cover-up to the operation in which Daniel disappeared.”
My chest tightened.
“What evidence?”
Daniel removed a small, sealed evidence pouch from his jacket.
Inside was a photograph of a handwritten note.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
My father’s.
Cross has become a liability. His findings must not reach Washington.
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
Hayes said nothing.
I stared at the photograph.
My father could be arrogant.
Cruel.
Obsessed with appearances.
But ordering someone silenced?
That was a line I had never believed he could cross.
“There’s more,” Daniel said.
I looked up.
“More?”
He leaned forward.
“Your father didn’t just know about the defective system. He knew who was responsible for my father’s death.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“And for fifteen years,” Daniel continued, “he let you carry the blame for discovering it.”
Caitlyn began crying.
I couldn’t move.
Then Daniel said something that made my blood run cold.
