Chapter 4 - The Partner Who Saved Them BothThey emerged behind the industrial building near railroad tracks.
Calder had an SUV hidden beneath an overhang.
Tessa stared.
“You plan escapes everywhere?”
Calder opened the driver’s door.
“I plan exits.”
Ronan almost laughed at the arrogance.
“Difference?”
“Exits are used before panic.”
Evan climbed into the passenger seat.
Tessa and the others packed into the back.
Ronan stayed outside.
Calder looked at him.
“Your motorcycle is gone.”
Ronan turned.
Through the fence, he saw one of the outside men wheeling it away.
His jaw tightened.
Calder said:
“Insurance.”
Ronan looked at the badge in his hand.
Then at the SUV.
He got in.
For fifteen minutes nobody spoke.
Calder drove through industrial streets toward Milwaukee.
Tessa finally asked:
“Am I under arrest?”
Ronan looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Great.”
“One count at a time.”
“I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“You lured a stranger into an ambush.”
“Which turned out badly.”
“That’s not a defense.”
She crossed her arms.
“You’re welcome for not taking your bike.”
Ronan stared.
Evan almost smiled.
The tension broke for half a second.
Then Calder said:
“Daniel lives in Wauwatosa now.”
Ronan’s expression changed.
“You keep tabs on him?”
“I keep tabs on everyone who can destroy me.”
“How comforting.”
“He thinks I’m dead.”
Ronan looked at him.
“Price too?”
“Yes.”
“Then who knows you’re alive?”
Evan answered:
“Victor Dane.”
Calder glanced at him.
“And a handful of people.”
Tessa shook her head.
“This is insane.”
Ronan looked at her.
“You wanted to rob a biker.”
“Simple crime.”
“Apparently not.”
One of her crew muttered:
“We should have stayed home.”
Tessa turned.
“Helpful.”
Calder drove toward an old storage facility.
Ronan frowned.
“Where are we going?”
“To show you what Price saw.”
They entered through a secured rear lot.
Inside one unit stood metal cabinets and a table.
Calder unlocked a drawer.
Files.
Photographs.
Old newspaper clippings.
Ronan saw his own face.
Undercover-era pictures.
Evan at seventeen.
Daniel Price.
Victor Dane.
Bell Street suspects.
Calder placed one photograph down.
Warehouse fire.
January 18.
Eight years earlier.
“You left at 11:42 p.m.”
Ronan stared.
“Price called.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Calder placed another paper beside it.
A printed message.
PRICE: GET HALE OUT NOW. DANE KNOWS HE’S POLICE.
Ronan looked up.
“Who did he send that to?”
“Me.”
His stomach tightened.
“You knew my cover was blown.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I was trying to preserve the operation.”
“You were trying to kill me.”
Calder’s face hardened.
“I told Price to pull you.”
Ronan stopped.
“What?”
Calder continued.
“The fire wasn't my plan.”
Evan stepped forward.
“You said you solved a problem.”
“I took responsibility because it was useful.”
“For who?”
Calder looked at him.
“Dane.”
Silence.
Ronan said:
“Victor ordered the fire.”
“Yes.”
“Why Evan?”
“Because Evan saw me taking money.”
Evan stared.
Calder continued:
“And because he saw Daniel.”
Ronan looked at him.
“What did Price do?”
Calder removed another photograph.
Daniel Price standing near Victor Dane’s car.
Taken two weeks before the fire.
Ronan’s throat tightened.
“Explain.”
“Price discovered I was working with Dane.”
“How?”
“He followed me.”
“And?”
“He confronted me.”
Ronan waited.
“I told him the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Bell Street wasn’t an investigation anymore.”
Calder’s voice became flat.
“It was controlled theft.”
Tessa frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Calder looked at her.
“Police allowed certain crews to operate as long as stolen goods moved through approved channels.”
She stared.
“You were managing criminals.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
At least he didn't pretend otherwise.
Ronan asked:
“Price joined you?”
“No.”
Calder’s jaw tightened.
“He threatened to expose everything.”
Ronan almost felt relief.
“Then what changed?”
“Dane found out.”
Calder placed another document on the table.
A photograph of Price’s wife.
And two children.
Ronan knew them.
He had attended birthdays.
“Dane threatened them.”
“Yes.”
Ronan’s anger shifted.
“So Price cooperated.”
“He gave Dane small things.”
“What things?”
“Schedules. Internal questions. Which officers were suspicious.”
Ronan stared.
“He became an informant against the police.”
“Against honest police.”
“Yes.”
“Why not go federal?”
Calder laughed.
“You think Dane didn’t have federal names too?”
Ronan said nothing.
Calder continued.
“Price tried to protect his family while feeding Dane enough to keep him calm.”
“Until me.”
“Until you found the financial file.”
Ronan remembered the encrypted spreadsheet.
The copy he kept.
“Dane wanted me dead.”
“Yes.”
“And Evan?”
“Evan had seen too much.”
Evan stepped closer.
“Price called Ronan out.”
Calder nodded.
“Then realized you were still inside.”
Evan’s voice hardened.
“He came back.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because unlike me, Daniel still had lines.”
Ronan looked at Calder.
“What happened after he pulled Evan out?”
Calder opened another file.
Medical records under a false name.
Evan Cross became Miles Carter.
Treated in a private clinic.
Paid through an account connected to Daniel Price.
Ronan stared at Evan.
“Price paid?”
“He told me Calder did.”
Calder laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Evan looked furious.
Ronan understood.
Price had saved Evan.
Hidden him.
Then told him Ronan betrayed him.
Why?
Calder answered before Ronan asked.
“Because Daniel believed if you two ever reunited, Dane would kill both of you.”
Ronan stared.
“So he made us hate each other.”
“Yes.”
Tessa whispered:
“That’s messed up.”
Everyone looked at her.
She shrugged.
“It is.”
Ronan felt something inside him break.
Price had lied.
Manipulated.
Destroyed trust.
But maybe not because he wanted Ronan gone.
Maybe because he wanted Ronan alive.
Calder pointed toward one final document.
“Then Daniel made a deal.”
Ronan looked down.
An account ledger.
Annual payments.
Twenty thousand.
Thirty.
Forty.
Eventually ninety thousand dollars.
To Daniel Price.
Ronan’s face hardened.
“That doesn’t look like protection.”
Calder nodded.
“Exactly.”
Ronan looked at him.
“You said Price wasn't dirty.”
“I said he wasn't always dirty.”
There was the distinction.
Calder closed the file.
“Somewhere during the next eight years, fear stopped being Daniel’s excuse.”
May you like
His eyes met Ronan’s.
“And became his business model.”
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