Maya's POV
Daniel's car was a black Mercedes that probably cost more than I'd earned in five years as a cop. He drove like someone running from demons—fast, controlled, dangerous.
"Where are we going?" I asked, buckling my seatbelt.
"My estate. It's outside town limits. Private security. Cameras everywhere. They can't touch us there without witnesses." His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "Tell me everything you saw. Everything."
I told him about Emma's body. The defensive wounds. The bruising on her throat. The wrong angle of impact. The way her shoe was still tied, proving she hadn't been running.
His jaw got tighter with every word until I thought it might snap.
"They killed her," he said quietly. "And they thought I'd just accept 'accident' as an answer because I'm too busy making money to care."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Be angry." He glanced at me, and those dark eyes were burning. "My grandmother said you were forced out of LAPD for discovering corruption. That your partner framed you and tried to kill you. Is that true?"
My hand automatically went to the scar under my shirt. "Yes."
"Good."
I blinked. "Good?"
"It means you understand what we're up against. It means you won't underestimate them. And it means you have just as many reasons to want them destroyed as I do." He turned onto a private road. "They think I'm just a rich CEO who'll throw money at the problem and then forget about it when it gets hard. They're wrong."
Something in his voice made me believe him. This wasn't just grief talking. This was cold, calculated rage—the kind that didn't burn out. The kind that planned and waited and struck when you least expected it.
We pulled up to a massive gate. Daniel entered a code, and it swung open.
"Welcome to my prison," he said bitterly. "Emma loved this place. Said it felt like a castle. I bought it for her because she smiled every time we drove through these gates. Now she's never coming home."
His voice cracked on the last word.
I didn't know what to say. What do you tell someone who just lost their baby sister? Sorry felt too small. It'll be okay was a lie. So I just sat there, sharing the silence, letting him grieve without judgment.
The house was beautiful but cold—all glass and steel and empty rooms. Daniel led me to his office, a space that looked like a command center with multiple monitors and enough technology to run a small country.
"I need you to send me those photos again," he said, typing rapidly on a computer. "I'm backing them up to encrypted servers in three different countries. If they try to delete them, I'll still have copies they can't touch."
While he worked, my phone started ringing. Chief Harris. Then an unknown number. Then another unknown number. Text messages poured in—some threatening, some pleading, all saying the same thing: delete the photos and leave town.
"They're panicking," Daniel said with satisfaction. "Good. Let them panic."
A new call came through. This time it was Brian's number.
My heart jumped. "I have to answer this."
Daniel nodded.
"Brian?" I said quickly. "Are you okay? Where are you?"
But it wasn't Brian's voice that answered.
It was Marcus Webb.
My blood turned to ice. I knew that voice. Heard it in my nightmares. The voice of my former partner. My betrayer. The man who'd stabbed me and destroyed my life.
"Hello, Maya. Miss me?"
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. Daniel saw my face and immediately started typing, probably trying to trace the call.
"I have to say, I'm impressed," Marcus continued, his voice smooth and friendly like we were old friends. "Most people I threaten actually listen. But not you. You never did know when to quit."
"Where's my brother?" I forced the words out.
"Safe. For now. As long as you behave." He paused. "I thought I made myself clear in Los Angeles. Walk away. Keep your mouth shut. Live a quiet life somewhere far away. But you just had to come to Crimson Bay. Had to start asking questions about poor Emma Chen."
"You killed her."
"I did what was necessary. She saw things she shouldn't have seen. Took photos of things that weren't her business. Just like you in LA, Maya. Just like you right now." His voice hardened. "Delete those photos. Get in your car. Drive away. Or your brother dies screaming."
"If you hurt him—"
"You'll what? Call the police? I am the police here. I'm a respected consultant helping this community fight crime. You're a disgraced ex-cop with PTSD who sees murders that don't exist." He laughed. "Who do you think they'll believe?"
Daniel scribbled something on paper and held it up: KEEP HIM TALKING.
"Why Emma?" I asked. "She was just a kid."
"She was a problem. Problems get eliminated. It's simple math." Marcus sighed. "You know, I really did love you, Maya. I thought we could be partners in everything. Build an empire together. But you were always too righteous. Too pure. Too stupid to see that the world doesn't reward good people—it crushes them."
"You tried to crush me. I'm still here."
"For now. But Crimson Bay isn't like Los Angeles. There's no Internal Affairs here. No oversight. No one to save you when you disappear." His voice dropped to something cold and final. "You have twenty-four hours. Delete the photos. Leave town. Or I start sending you pieces of your brother."
The line went dead.
I stood there shaking, phone pressed to my ear, listening to silence. Daniel touched my shoulder gently.
"Breathe," he said. "Just breathe."
"He's here." The words came out strangled. "Marcus is here. In Crimson Bay. He killed Emma. He has Brian. And he's going to—"
"He's not going to do anything." Daniel's voice was steel. "Because we're not giving him twenty-four hours. We're going to find your brother, expose Marcus and everyone working with him, and make sure Emma gets justice."
"You don't understand. Marcus isn't just corrupt. He's smart. Connected. Dangerous. He's been planning this for years—building a trafficking network across California, using his badge as cover. I tried to stop him in LA and look what happened."
"You were alone in LA." Daniel met my eyes. "You're not alone anymore."
A knock on the office door made us both jump. A massive man entered—easily six-foot-four, built like a tank, moving with the controlled grace of someone trained to kill.
"This is James Lin," Daniel said. "Head of my security and the closest thing I have to family besides Emma and my grandmother. James, this is Maya Reeves. She found Emma's body this morning."
James's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes softened. "I'm sorry you had to see that, ma'am."
"James is former Navy SEAL," Daniel continued. "If anyone can help us find your brother and take down Marcus Webb, it's him."
James pulled up a chair. "Tell me everything."
I told him about Marcus. About the trafficking ring in LA. About the frame job and the stabbing. About finding Emma's body and the police cover-up. About Brian being held hostage.
James listened without interrupting, his face unreadable. When I finished, he turned to Daniel.
"This is bigger than we thought. If Webb is running a trafficking operation through Crimson Bay, he's got local support. Police. Politicians. Business owners. We're not just fighting one corrupt cop—we're fighting a system."
"Then we break the system," Daniel said simply.
"It'll be dangerous. Expensive. Could take months."
"I don't care. Emma is dead. Maya's brother is being held hostage. And these people think they're untouchable." Daniel's voice went quiet and dangerous. "Let's show them what happens when someone actually touches back."
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number with a photo attachment.
My hands shook as I opened it.
It was Brian. Tied to a chair in what looked like a basement. His face was bruised. Blood dripped from his nose. But he was alive.
The text below the photo read: "The clock is ticking. Make the right choice."
A second text arrived immediately after. Another photo.
This one made my stomach drop.
It was me. Taken this morning while I was running on the coastal trail. Before I found Emma's body. Which meant someone had been following me. Watching me. Waiting.
The text: "We're always watching. You can't hide. You can't run. You can only obey."
Daniel looked at the photos, his face going pale. "They've been following you since you arrived."
"Which means they knew I was coming." My mind raced. "But how? I didn't tell anyone except Brian, and I didn't even tell him until—"
I stopped. Went cold.
"What?" Daniel asked.
"I didn't tell Brian I was coming. I was going to surprise him." My voice shook. "Which means someone else knew. Someone tracked me from Los Angeles. Someone who's been waiting for me to show up."
James and Daniel exchanged looks.
"Webb," James said. "He's been tracking you the whole time."
"Which means this isn't about Emma at all." The realization hit me like a punch. "Emma was bait. They killed her knowing someone would investigate. Knowing it would draw attention. Knowing I'd hear about it and get involved because I can't walk away from a murdered kid."
"Why?" Daniel's voice was sharp. "Why use my sister as bait?"
"Because Marcus is obsessed with me. He tried to kill me once and I survived. Reported him and exposed his operation in LA. He had to shut it down and move here to Crimson Bay. Start over." I looked at the photo of me on the trail. "He's not trying to scare me away. He's luring me in. He wants me here. Wants me asking questions and digging around and making noise."
"So he can finish what he started in Los Angeles," James said quietly. "Kill you. Make it look like an accident or suicide. Close the loop."
Daniel stood up abruptly, his chair scraping across the floor. "Then we don't play his game. We don't wait twenty-four hours. We go on offense right now."
"Against a man who has the entire police department backing him?" I shook my head. "That's suicide."
"Maybe. Or maybe it's exactly what he doesn't expect." Daniel pulled up a map of Crimson Bay on his computer. "Marcus thinks he's in control. Thinks he can predict what you'll do because he knows you're a good person who won't risk her brother's life. But he doesn't know me."
"What are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting we stop playing detective and start playing chess." Daniel's eyes were cold and calculating. "Emma's memorial service is tomorrow afternoon. The whole town will be there—Mayor Ashford, Chief Harris, everyone involved in this conspiracy. They'll all be in one place at one time."
"That's too public," James said. "Too many civilians."
"Exactly. Which means they can't make anyone disappear without witnesses. It's the perfect time to make accusations. Show the photos Maya took. Force them to respond publicly." Daniel looked at me. "Do you still have your police interrogation training? Know how to ask questions that make guilty people slip up?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then tomorrow at Emma's memorial, you're going to stand up and ask those questions. In front of the entire town. In front of witnesses and cameras and people who aren't part of the conspiracy. You're going to make them uncomfortable. Make them defensive. Make them make mistakes."
"They'll arrest me," I said. "Or worse."
"Not if I'm standing next to you with my lawyers and my money and my public reputation." Daniel's smile was sharp and cold. "I'm Daniel Chen. I employ half this town through my companies. I donate to every charity. I'm untouchable. And if I say I believe you, people will listen."
It was crazy. Reckless. Exactly the kind of move that could get us all killed.
It was also brilliant.
"What about Brian?" I asked quietly.
Daniel's expression softened slightly. "James and his team will be finding your brother while we're at the memorial causing chaos. Won't you, James?"
James nodded. "Give me until tomorrow afternoon. I'll have him out."
"You can't promise that."
"No. But I can promise I'll die trying." James stood. "I was Emma's godfather. I should have protected her. I failed. I won't fail your brother too."
My phone buzzed again. Another text from Marcus: "12 hours now. I'm feeling impatient. Delete the photos or Brian loses a finger."
Daniel grabbed my phone and typed a response before I could stop him.
"See you at Emma's memorial. Bring your handcuffs. You're going to need them."
He hit send.
I stared at him in horror. "Are you insane? You just threatened a corrupt cop who's holding my brother hostage!"
"Yes. And now he knows we're not afraid." Daniel's eyes blazed. "Emma was seventeen years old. She died scared and alone because she tried to do the right thing. I won't let her death mean nothing. I won't let them win. And I won't let them hurt anyone else."
"They'll kill us."
"They'll try." He held out his hand. "Are you with me?"
I looked at his hand. Thought about Emma's broken body on the rocks. Thought about Brian tied to a chair, bleeding. Thought about Marcus smiling as he stabbed me, as he framed me, as he destroyed everything I worked for.
Thought about every victim I'd failed to save because no one believed me.
I took Daniel's hand. "I'm with you."
"Good." He squeezed my hand. "Because tomorrow, we're going to war."
My phone rang one more time. I answered without thinking.
Marcus's voice was shaking with rage. "You just signed your brother's death warrant."
"No," I said quietly. "I just signed yours."
I hung up.
Daniel pulled up a document on his computer—Emma's autopsy report, obtained through methods I probably didn't want to know about.
"Look at this," he said, pointing to a section. "The coroner says Emma died from blunt force trauma consistent with a fall. But look at the time of death. 11 PM. And look at this notation—'body temperature suggests victim was in water for approximately 6-8 hours before being placed on rocks.'"
My blood went cold. "They held her somewhere. Killed her somewhere else. Then moved her body to the cove to stage it as a fall."
"Which means there's a primary crime scene we haven't found yet." Daniel's hands were shaking. "My sister was alive and terrified for hours while they... while they..."
He couldn't finish the sentence.
James put a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "We'll find where it happened. We'll find everyone involved. And we'll make sure they pay."
"There's something else," I said, reading the report more carefully. "The coroner noted 'unusual bruising patterns on victim's wrists consistent with zip ties or restraints.' But that's not in the official ruling. Someone removed it from the public record."
"Who signed off on the autopsy?" Daniel asked.
I checked the signature. "Dr. Robert Martinez. County coroner."
"I know him," Daniel said slowly. "He's on the board of Victoria Ashford's foundation. One of her major supporters."
The pieces were falling into place. Mayor Ashford. Chief Harris. Marcus Webb. Dr. Martinez. How many people were involved in this conspiracy?
A loud crash made us all jump. Glass shattering somewhere in the house.
James immediately pulled a gun. "Stay here."
He disappeared into the hallway. We heard shouting. More crashing. Then silence.
Daniel moved in front of me protectively, which would have been sweet if it wasn't terrifying.
James came back, his face grim. He was dragging someone—a young guy, maybe twenty-five, dressed in all black.
"Found him trying to plant something in your bedroom," James said, throwing the guy onto the floor. "Show them."
James held up a small device. "Camera. Hidden in your smoke detector. Someone wanted to watch everything you do."
Daniel's face went dark with fury. He grabbed the intruder by the collar. "Who sent you?"
The guy stayed silent.
"I'll ask one more time." Daniel's voice was deadly calm. "Who. Sent. You."
"Go to hell."
Daniel looked at James. "Call the police."
The intruder laughed. "You think the cops will help you? We own them."
"That's what I was hoping you'd say." Daniel pulled out his phone and started recording. "Can you repeat that? The part about owning the police?"
The intruder's face went pale. He'd just confessed on camera.
"Now," Daniel said pleasantly. "Let's try this again. Who sent you? What were you supposed to find? And how many more of you are there?"
The guy's mouth clamped shut.
James leaned down. "Your friends already left you here. Ran the second I spotted them. You're alone. Caught. Recorded. And the man you're looking at is rich enough to make your life a living hell." He smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "Or you could cooperate. Tell us what we want to know. And maybe—maybe—you walk away from this with just some jail time instead of disappearing permanently."
"You can't threaten me."
"I'm not threatening. I'm promising." James's smile widened. "You tried to bug a billionaire's house. You're working for people who murder teenage girls. And you think anyone will care if you vanish? Please. You're expendable. They've probably already decided to eliminate you to cover their tracks."
I watched the intruder's face. Saw the moment doubt crept in. The moment he realized James was right—he was expendable.
"I want immunity," he said finally.
Daniel looked at me. "Can you promise that?"
"I'm not a cop anymore."
"But you have connections. People who believed you in LA. People in the FBI, maybe?"
I thought about Zoe. About the evidence she'd been gathering to clear my name. "Maybe."
"Then call them." Daniel pulled the intruder to his feet. "Make the deal. Get him to talk. And let's find out exactly how deep this goes."
I pulled out my phone to call Zoe.
It rang once before someone answered.
But it wasn't Zoe's voice.
It was a woman's voice. Smooth. Cultured. Familiar from somewhere.
"Hello, Maya. This is Mayor Victoria Ashford. I believe we need to talk."
My hands went numb.
"How did you get this number?"
"I get everything I want in this town. Including access to your friend Zoe's phone." She paused. "She's here with me now. Unconscious but alive. For now."
The world tilted. "What did you do?"
"Nothing yet. But that depends entirely on your next choice." Victoria's voice hardened. "Come to the yacht club. Alone. Unarmed. In one hour. Or Zoe dies. Then your brother dies. Then we come for Daniel Chen's grandmother. We'll kill everyone you love, one by one, until there's no one left. And then we'll kill you."
"Don't—"
"One hour, Maya. The clock is ticking. And this time, you can't save everyone."
The line went dead.
I stood there, frozen, phone in my hand.
Zoe. They had Zoe.
My best friend. The only person who believed in me. The one person I thought was safe in Sacramento, far away from this nightmare.
Daniel saw my face. "What happened?"
"They have Zoe. Victoria Ashford. She wants me at the yacht club in one hour. Alone. Or she kills everyone I love."
"It's a trap."
"I know. But what choice do I have?" My voice cracked. "They have Brian. They have Zoe. If I don't go—"
"If you do go, you die. And they still kill Brian and Zoe anyway." Daniel grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "This is what they do, Maya. They make you choose between bad options. Make you feel powerless. Make you give up."
"I can't let them die."
"And I can't let you die." His eyes were fierce. "Emma died because she faced these people alone. I won't let the same thing happen to you."
"So what do we do?"
Daniel looked at James. They seemed to communicate without words.
"We give them what they want," James said slowly. "We send Maya to the yacht club. Alone. Unarmed. Exactly as requested."
I stared at him. "You want me to just surrender?"
"No." James's smile was cold and dangerous. "I want you to be bait while we burn their whole operation down around them."