Chapter 2 - The Man Who Knew Evan’s NameTravis Keene sat inside an interview room at Sacramento Police headquarters with both hands folded on the table.
He had asked for a lawyer.
Then changed his mind.
Then asked again.
Now he was waiting.
Evan watched through the observation window.
Detective Lena Ortiz stood beside him.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“He said my brother’s name?”
“No.”
“He recognized me.”
“That doesn’t make you primary interviewer.”
Evan stared through the glass.
Travis looked smaller under fluorescent lights.
The scar along his jaw was more visible.
“So let me listen.”
Lena sighed.
“You’re emotionally involved.”
“My brother has been missing six months.”
“Exactly.”
Evan turned.
“I can handle it.”
“That’s what emotionally involved people always say.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Evan looked back at Travis.
His younger brother, Cole Cross, disappeared after leaving a motorcycle meetup near Stockton.
Cole was thirty-one.
Mechanic.
Marine veteran.
Loved motorcycles enough to rebuild engines on his apartment balcony even after three landlord complaints.
Police found his truck abandoned near Highway 99.
No phone.
No wallet.
No blood.
No body.
Only one security image mattered.
Cole speaking to Travis Keene outside a gas station.
Travis denied knowing him.
Claimed Cole asked directions.
Investigators had no evidence proving otherwise.
Then Travis vanished.
Until tonight.
Lena entered the interview room with another detective.
Evan listened through audio.
“Mr. Keene, you asked to speak before counsel arrived.”
Travis rubbed his face.
“I changed my mind.”
“Fine.”
Lena began gathering papers.
Travis looked toward the mirrored glass.
“Is Cross there?”
Lena paused.
“Why?”
“I know he’s there.”
“Then talk to me like you’re talking to him.”
Travis leaned back.
“You arrested the wrong people.”
“You were trying to rob a police officer.”
“I didn’t touch him.”
“You blocked the road with three other men.”
“That wasn’t supposed to be me.”
Lena sat again.
“Who was it supposed to be?”
Travis looked toward the mirror.
“A buyer.”
“What buyer?”
He shook his head.
“I want protection.”
“From who?”
“Not protection in jail.”
“Then give me something useful.”
Travis swallowed.
“This isn’t a motorcycle theft crew.”
Evan’s jaw tightened.
Lena remained expressionless.
“What is it?”
“The bikes are part of it.”
“What part?”
Travis leaned closer.
“Movement.”
“Movement of what?”
Silence.
“Drugs?”
Travis laughed nervously.
“Wish it was that simple.”
Evan felt his pulse change.
Lena asked:
“People?”
Travis’s eyes flickered.
There.
Evan saw it.
Lena saw it too.
“People?”
Travis looked at the mirror again.
Then said:
“Cole found something.”
Evan’s entire body tightened.
Lena’s tone remained controlled.
“What?”
“I told him not to look.”
“Look at what?”
“A storage place.”
“Where?”
“I’m not saying until there’s a deal.”
Lena leaned back.
“Was Cole alive the last time you saw him?”
Travis stopped breathing for half a second.
Evan stepped closer to the glass.
“Answer,” Lena said.
“Yes.”
Evan closed his eyes.
Alive.
At least then.
“When?”
“Night he disappeared.”
“What happened?”
“Cole recognized a bike.”
“What bike?”
“A Gold Wing.”
“Stolen?”
“Yeah.”
“From where?”
“Roseville.”
Lena slid a photograph across the table.
A black Honda Gold Wing stolen from a retired surgeon three days before Cole disappeared.
Travis nodded.
“That one.”
“How did Cole recognize it?”
“He serviced it.”
Evan knew.
Cole remembered motorcycles better than faces.
A scratch near a saddlebag.
An aftermarket bracket.
A replacement bolt.
He could identify a machine from tiny details.
“What did he do?”
Travis swallowed.
“He followed us.”
“To where?”
“No.”
Lena’s eyes hardened.
“Mr. Keene.”
“I want the deal first.”
She stood.
“Then we wait for counsel.”
Travis panicked.
“Blaire doesn’t know everything.”
Lena stopped.
“What does she know?”
“Enough to get killed.”
Behind the glass Evan stared.
Lena sat again.
“Who is Blaire Mercer?”
Travis shook his head.
“That’s not her name.”
Evan frowned.
“What is?”
Travis looked toward the mirror.
“I don’t know.”
“That convenient.”
“She showed up three months ago.”
“With who?”
“Rourke.”
“First name?”
“Silas.”
Evan knew the name.
Silas Rourke had appeared in two intelligence reports tied to organized vehicle theft.
Never charged.
“Where is he?”
Travis laughed bitterly.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be scared.”
Lena leaned forward.
“What happened to Cole?”
Travis looked down.
“He got inside.”
“Inside where?”
“The warehouse.”
Evan stopped breathing.
“What warehouse?” Lena asked.
Travis’s voice lowered.
“Not the one tonight.”
“Then where?”
“Old agricultural cold-storage place near Elk Grove.”
“Address?”
Travis shook his head.
“I only went twice.”
“You followed a route.”
“At night.”
Lena’s patience thinned.
“Give us something.”
Travis thought.
“Rail line nearby. Water tower. Red roof on a feed supply building.”
Possible.
Searchable.
Then he whispered:
“Cole saw the rooms.”
Evan’s stomach tightened.
“What rooms?”
Travis looked toward the mirror.
“The ones behind the motorcycles.”
Lena’s face hardened.
“What was in them?”
Travis shook his head.
“I never went inside.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I heard people.”
“What people?”
Travis stared at his hands.
“Women.”
Evan felt cold.
Lena waited.
Travis continued:
“Maybe three.”
“Held there?”
“Yes.”
“Against their will?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“They weren’t supposed to be seen.”
Evan’s jaw tightened.
“And Cole saw them.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Rourke caught him.”
“Was he hurt?”
Travis closed his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see him leave?”
“No.”
Evan nearly entered the room.
Lena saw movement through the glass and subtly shook her head.
Stay.
She asked:
“What did Rourke say afterward?”
Travis looked toward the mirror.
“That Cole was being moved.”
“Where?”
“No idea.”
“Alive?”
Travis whispered:
“That’s what Rourke said.”
Evan exhaled shakily.
For six months he had pictured grave sites.
Riverbanks.
Desert roads.
Now there was another possibility.
Worse in some ways.
Better in one.
Cole might still be alive.
Then Lena asked:
“Why did you recognize Evan tonight?”
Travis’s eyes lifted.
“Because Cole kept talking about his brother.”
Evan froze.
“He said if anything happened, Evan would come.”
Travis gave a broken laugh.
“We used to joke about it.”
“Why?”
“Cole said his brother didn’t know how to let things go.”
Behind the glass Evan looked down.
That sounded exactly like Cole.
Travis continued.
“Then motor officers started appearing everywhere after Cole disappeared.”
“Traffic stops?”
“Checkpoints. stolen-bike operations. VIN inspections.”
Lena almost smiled.
Evan and the motor unit had quietly pressured the theft network for months.
Not illegally.
Just relentlessly.
Every stolen touring bike drew scrutiny.
Every chop shop received attention.
Every rally contact got photographed.
Travis said:
“Rourke started calling Cross the ghost.”
Evan frowned.
Lena asked:
“Why?”
“Because he said Evan was riding every road Cole used to ride.”
Travis looked toward the mirror.
“And sooner or later, the ghost would find us.”
Evan stared.
Tonight had looked like coincidence.
Maybe it was.
May you like
But the Route 8 crew had been watching him too.
And someone inside that organization had known exactly who Evan Cross was long before Blaire pretended to be pregnant beside the road.
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