Chapter 9 - The Tunnel
Elkstone Tunnel had been sealed for fourteen years.
That was what county records said.
Reality was different.
The padlock was new.
Detective Ortiz stood beside it in falling snow.
“This was replaced recently.”
Ryan looked up the mountain.
“Victor?”
“Maybe.”
A warrant team cut the lock.
The tunnel smelled of wet stone, rust, and old fuel.
Mercer Alpine had once used it for snow-grooming equipment before an avalanche damaged the eastern access road.
Ryan remembered visiting as a teenager.
His father had stored machines there.
By 2023, the company supposedly had no reason to use it.
Flashlights swept the walls.
Twenty yards inside, a deputy stopped.
“Detective.”
A rusted folding chair sat against the wall.
Beside it lay a plastic zip tie.
Old.
Brittle.
Ortiz crouched.
“Bag everything.”
Farther inside they found dark stains on concrete.
Forensics tested them.
Most were oil.
One small patch near the wall reacted as possible blood.
Ryan stared.
“Nora?”
“We don’t know.”
Near the old maintenance office, an officer found a corroded flashlight.
Heavy aluminum.
One side was dented.
Ortiz did not touch it.
Ryan felt suddenly nauseated.
“Was she hit with that?”
“Stop guessing.”
At the back of the office, Maya noticed scratches on a metal cabinet.
Three letters.
N.M.
Ryan pressed his fist against his mouth.
They opened the cabinet.
Empty.
Then Ortiz shone her light upward.
A loose ceiling panel.
Behind it was a torn black leather strap.
Part of a notebook cover.
The ledger.
Or what remained of it.
Someone had been here before them.
Someone had destroyed the book.
But not completely.
Forensics recovered a narrow fragment of paper caught behind the panel.
Three handwritten lines survived.
DV — 275
VH — 450
C — 1.7
The same figures from Nora’s copied ledger page.
Ryan stared.
“She hid the book here.”
Maya nodded.
“And someone found it.”
Ortiz said, “Probably recently.”
“How do you know?”
“The dust around the ceiling panel is disturbed.”
Ryan thought of Celeste forcing Emma to search the chalet cellar.
She had not known where Nora moved the ledger.
She had been searching for three years.
That meant someone else might have found part of it first.
His phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
A photograph.
The Mercer chalet.
Taken from across the road.
Then words:
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN DENVER.
Ryan’s blood turned cold.
“Emma.”
He ran from the tunnel.
Ortiz shouted behind him.
Mrs. Palmer answered the chalet phone on the second ring.
“Ryan?”
“Where’s Emma?”
“Upstairs.”
“Check.”
“What?”
“Check now.”
He heard footsteps.
Then silence.
“Mrs. Palmer?”
No answer.
“Mrs. Palmer!”
Her voice returned, terrified.
“She’s not here.”
Ryan stopped breathing.
Ortiz grabbed his arm.
“What happened?”
“Emma’s gone.”
Police vehicles exploded into motion.
Ryan drove like a man who had forgotten fear.
Maya called the protection officer posted outside.
No response.
Then Ortiz’s dispatch reported the officer had been found unconscious in the detached garage.
Alive.
Struck from behind.
Ryan’s mind became a single image.
Emma in that white apron.
Emma under his coat.
Emma asking if he would send her away.
When they reached the chalet, the front door stood open.
Mrs. Palmer was crying.
“I only left her for five minutes.”
Ryan ran upstairs.
Emma’s bedroom was empty.
The window was closed.
No obvious struggle.
On the pillow lay a black envelope.
Inside:
STOP THE TRUST CHALLENGE.
STOP THE POLICE.
OR THE NEXT PHOTOGRAPH YOU GET WILL BE OF YOUR DAUGHTER.
Ryan’s vision blurred.
Ortiz took the letter.
“Ryan, listen to me.”
He grabbed his phone.
“I’m calling Celeste.”
“No.”
“She has Emma.”
“We don’t know that.”
“I know.”
“Do not tip off whoever did this.”
Ryan shook her off.
“You want procedure? Take procedure and—”
His phone rang.
Celeste.
Ryan answered instantly.
“Where is she?”
Celeste sounded confused.
“What?”
“Emma.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t.”
“Ryan, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Someone took her.”
Silence.
Then Celeste said, “From the chalet?”
Her voice changed.
Not triumph.
Fear.
Real fear.
Ryan heard it.
“Where is Victor?”
“I don’t know.”
“Douglas?”
“I haven’t spoken to him.”
“Liar.”
“Ryan, listen to me. If Victor took Emma, this is not about the trust anymore.”
Ortiz was recording.
Ryan stared at the phone.
“What does that mean?”
Celeste whispered, “Victor kept insurance.”
“What insurance?”
“Evidence.”
“Against you?”
“Against everyone.”
Ryan’s anger became something colder.
“What did you do with him?”
“I paid him to solve problems.”
“My wife?”
Celeste went silent.
“Was Nora a problem?”
Another silence.
Then a small voice sounded from somewhere behind Celeste.
“Dad?”
Ryan froze.
“Emma?”
Celeste gasped.
The line went dead.
Ryan stared at the screen.
Ortiz immediately ordered a trace.
Thirty seconds later, dispatch called back.
The signal had originated not from Celeste’s phone.
May you like
But from Victor Hale’s.
And its last tower connection came from a private hangar at Aspen airport.
