Chapter 7 - The Deputy Chief Who Approved EverythingMalcolm Voss had thirty-one years in law enforcement.
Decorated.
Popular.
Six months from retirement.
Miles had attended his daughter’s wedding.
Lena had received a commendation from him.
Harper reported directly to him.
Accusing him based on one fleeing sergeant’s statement was not enough.
But they could investigate quietly.
Financial records first.
Nothing obvious.
House paid.
Retirement healthy.
No unexplained millions.
Then Canyon Crest contract history.
Twelve years earlier, Voss chaired the vendor review committee.
Canyon Crest ranked third in scoring.
Still received the largest rotating tow allocation.
Why?
A handwritten evaluation adjustment.
Signed by Voss.
Could be legitimate.
Then complaints.
Over the years, citizens alleged valuables disappeared from impounded vehicles.
Phones.
Cash.
Tools.
Cases often closed as unsubstantiated.
Who reviewed several?
Halley.
Who supervised the unit?
Voss.
Miles stared.
“That could be bureaucracy.”
Harper nodded.
“We need more.”
Erin provided it accidentally.
During a second interview, Lena showed her photographs.
Dane.
Boone.
Calvin.
Halley.
When Voss’s image appeared, Erin’s face changed.
Tiny.
But visible.
“You know him.”
“No.”
“Erin.”
“No.”
“You looked away.”
She began crying.
“I never met him.”
“Then what?”
“I saw him.”
“Where?”
“Dane’s office.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“What happened?”
“I came in the back.”
“Why?”
“Looking for Boone.”
“And?”
“There was a man with Dane.”
She pointed at Voss.
“Him.”
“What were they doing?”
“Arguing.”
“About?”
“I heard ‘contract’ and ‘police.’”
“Anything else?”
Erin hesitated.
“Dane said somebody was becoming a problem.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t hear.”
“Did Voss take money?”
“I didn’t see.”
“Did he threaten anyone?”
“No.”
Not enough.
Then she remembered:
“There was a photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“On Dane’s desk.”
“Of?”
“A biker.”
Miles’s pulse rose.
“Nathan Caldwell?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked at an image.
“Yes.”
Miles exhaled.
Deputy Chief Voss had been in Dane’s office while Caldwell’s photograph sat on the desk after or around his disappearance.
Still circumstantial.
Then Nathan’s notebook provided another clue.
One page contained initials:
M.V. — CITY HALL LOT — 11:30
Date three weeks before Nathan disappeared.
No video associated.
Maybe Nathan planned to follow Voss.
Maybe he already had.
Harper searched traffic-camera archives.
Retention limited.
Nothing.
Then an old parking citation database returned a result.
Nathan’s motorcycle received a warning near City Hall that day.
Officer body camera existed in archives because the stop was classified as citizen contact.
They recovered it.
Nathan told the officer:
“I’m waiting on somebody.”
“Who?”
“Friend.”
Minutes later the body camera turned accidentally toward the far lot.
A black SUV.
Dane’s.
Beside it stood Malcolm Voss.
Nathan had been watching them.
He knew.
That made his disappearance more dangerous.
Meanwhile, searchers located Calvin Dorsey.
Alive.
Barely.
A state trooper found him walking beside a farm road twenty miles south of Boise.
Dehydrated.
Bruised.
Hands zip-tied in front.
He had escaped from an abandoned shed.
At the hospital, he asked for protection.
Then confessed.
“I stole the camera.”
Harper sat beside his bed.
“Why?”
“Dane called.”
“When?”
“Morning after the ambush.”
“What did he say?”
“That if cops had video, I needed to get it.”
“You had access.”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been helping him?”
“Seven years.”
“What did you do?”
“Flagged impound reports.”
“Deleted evidence?”
“Sometimes.”
“Case searches?”
“Yes.”
“Warned Dane?”
“Yes.”
“Caldwell?”
Calvin began crying.
“Yes.”
Miles watched from the hallway.
Harper continued.
“Did you tell him Nathan was trying to contact Miles?”
“Yes.”
Miles closed his eyes.
There.
A direct chain.
“Why?”
“Dane is family.”
Again, family used as permission.
“Did you know Caldwell would be hurt?”
“No.”
“Did you know after?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is he?”
“I swear.”
Calvin cried harder.
“I only knew they brought his bike in.”
“What about the camera?”
“Dane had it.”
“Memory card?”
“Missing.”
“What about Deputy Chief Voss?”
Calvin’s face changed.
“I never dealt with him.”
“Does he work with Dane?”
“I don’t know.”
“Calvin.”
“I don’t.”
Harper showed the City Hall image.
Calvin stared.
Then whispered:
“That’s not why they met.”
“What?”
“Dane hated Voss.”
Miles frowned.
That contradicted their theory.
“Why?”
“Voss kept threatening to cancel Canyon Crest.”
Harper leaned closer.
“Then why meet?”
“Blackmail.”
The room went silent.
“Who was blackmailing who?”
“Dane had something on Voss.”
“What?”
Calvin swallowed.
“His son.”
Miles stared.
“What about his son?”
“Years ago, Voss’s son killed someone driving drunk.”
Harper’s expression changed.
There was no public record.
Calvin continued.
“Dane’s tow truck was first on scene.”
“Did he hide evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Who asked?”
“I don’t know.”
“Voss?”
“Dane said so.”
Miles felt the case shift.
Voss may not have created Canyon Crest’s crimes.
He may have been trapped by one cover-up twelve years earlier.
One compromise.
Then years of blackmail.
Harper asked:
“Who runs the ambush crew?”
“Dane.”
“Who runs Dane?”
Calvin looked terrified.
“No one.”
“But Halley told Miles otherwise.”
Calvin shook his head.
“Halley lies.”
“Why?”
“Because Halley is the one who turned the robberies into something worse.”
Miles leaned toward the observation window.
Calvin whispered:
“Dane steals bikes.”
May you like
A breath.
“Halley made people disappear.”
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