Chapter 5 - SOPHIE'S FATHER DID NOT DIE IN AN ACCIDENT
Michael Reed's garage fire was reopened.
Seattle police had preserved photographs.
Insurance records.
Samples.
The original investigator had questioned the burn pattern.
Then someone higher up labeled it electrical.
The detective who signed the final report had retired to Arizona.
He agreed to talk.
His answer:
“I was told Whitaker people didn't want noise.”
I stared.
“Which Whitaker?”
He looked ashamed.
“Vincent.”
Of course.
Michael's death was no longer a coincidence.
But evidence still mattered.
The garage had been demolished.
Witnesses scattered.
Then Marcus found one.
A mechanic named Luis Ortega.
He had worked the night before the fire.
Michael had been terrified.
“He kept saying somebody had switched Daniel Whitaker's module.”
Luis looked at me during the interview.
“He said if Mr. Whitaker ever found out, people would die.”
That hurt.
Not because Michael was wrong then.
Because five years ago, he probably wasn't.
Luis continued.
“Michael wanted to go directly to you.”
“Why didn't he?”
“Vincent told him he'd arrange a meeting.”
There had never been one.
Three days later, the garage burned.
Sophie became part of the investigation only in the smallest possible way.
She identified an old photograph of her father.
Nothing more.
No interrogations.
No secret evidence conveniently hidden in her toy.
She was five.
Adults had already failed her enough.
Child-services investigators located her maternal aunt in Tacoma.
Stable job.
Small apartment.
No criminal history.
She had been searching for Sophie for months after Sophie's mother disappeared into addiction treatment and lost contact.
Sophie moved in with her.
Elena visited.
I did not.
Not yet.
I refused to turn gratitude into an obligation.
Still, Sophie sent me a drawing.
A stick man in a wheelchair.
A girl holding his hand.
Above them:
MR DANIEL TRY
I stared at it for a long time.
Then called Dr. Chen.
“When do we start?”
May you like
She laughed.
“Tomorrow.”
