Chapter 3 The Vanishing Witness

Dawn was breaking when we reached the safe house a dilapidated two-story nestled in the ruins of an old industrial district. The windows were boarded, the surrounding buildings long abandoned. It was the perfect place to disappear.

Martha led the way inside, locking the door behind us. "We don't have much time. They'll cover their tracks soon."

I nodded, my grip tightening on my weapon. "Then let's make it count. Tell me everything."

Before she could respond, my phone buzzed.

It was Aceman. His voice was tight. "Randi, we've got a problem. The evidence you pulled on the murders? Gone. Someone wiped the files."

My stomach dropped.

Then Martha's phone lit up with a single message.

'He's dead. We're next.'

Our only informant had just been silenced.

Martha's face drained of color as she read the message. Her breathing quickened, and she stumbled back toward the nearest chair. "They got to him. He was our last lead."

I clenched my jaw, forcing my mind to stay sharp. "No, he wasn't. We still have you. And we still have whatever Gerald uncovered before they killed him."

Martha shook her head. "You don't get it, Randi. They don't just kill people. They erase them. You saw what happened to those files. If they can wipe out evidence inside a police department, imagine what else they can do."

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration simmering under my skin. "There's always something they can't erase. A mistake, a loose end. They think they're ghosts, but ghosts leave shadows. We just have to find them."

Martha stared at me, then took a shaky breath. "I might have something. But it's dangerous. If we go after this, we might not make it out."

"Then let's not waste time."

She exhaled sharply and reached into her bag, pulling out a worn notebook. The cover was tattered, the pages crammed with notes, newspaper clippings, and names.

" Gerald wasn't just investigating the murders," she said, flipping through the pages. "He was tracing money. Off-the-books transactions, shell companies, accounts that vanished overnight. It all led back to one place."

She turned the notebook toward me. A name was scrawled across the top of the page in Ross's unmistakable handwriting.

Redwell Industries.

I frowned. "That's a pharmaceutical company. Mostly R&D. Nothing criminal."

Martha's expression hardened. "That's what they want you to think. But dig deep enough, and you'll find their real business. Weapons. Biotech experiments. Human trials no one ever hears about. And the people who try to expose them? They don't just disappear-they're erased."

A chill ran down my spine. "You think they're funding the killers?"

Martha nodded grimly. "I think they are the killers."

A sudden noise outside made us both freeze. The creak of footsteps on gravel. Slow. Intentional.

I motioned for Maya to stay low, creeping toward the window. Through a small gap between the boards, I spotted a dark SUV idling near the alleyway. The driver stayed inside, but two figures in tactical gear were moving toward the house, their weapons drawn.

"They found us," I whispered.

Martha's fingers tightened around the notebook. "Not again! How? We can't let them take this."

"We won't." I checked my ammo. Two spare mags. Not great, but better than nothing. "Back door-go now."

Martha slipped toward the rear exit as I took position near the front. The first shadow passed the boarded-up window, followed by another. Then, the front doorknob twisted slightly.

I didn't wait. I fired through the door, the gunshot roaring in the enclosed space. A grunt of pain. The second figure ducked back, returning fire. The impact sent splinters flying as I dove for cover.

Martha was already in the alley, the engine of a rusted pickup growling to life. I sprinted toward her, bullets tearing into the wall behind me. I barely made it into the passenger seat before she floored it, sending us skidding onto the main road.

In the side mirror, the SUV roared to life and gave chase.

"Hang on!" Martha a shouted as she swerved hard, tires screeching against the asphalt.

A burst of gunfire ripped through the back windshield. I ducked, returning fire through the broken glass, hitting the SUV's grille. The driver swerved, but they weren't stopping.

"We need to lose them!" I yelled.

Martha gritted her teeth. "I know a place!" She jerked the wheel, sending us down a narrow construction road.

The SUV followed.

Ahead, a barricade loomed where the road ended abruptly. Martha's grip tightened. "Hold on."

She slammed the brakes and spun the truck sideways. The SUV tried to follow suit, but it was too fast, too heavy. It clipped the barricade, flipping onto its side in a thunderous crash.

For a moment, everything was still. Then, a figure crawled from the wreckage, blood trailing down his forehead. His mask had been ripped away in the crash.

Martha inhaled sharply. "I know him."

I aimed my gun at the staggering figure. "Who is he?"

"His name is voss Stone. Redwell best security. He's not just some hired gun-he's one of them. He's part of the group that's been killing everyone."

Stone raised a trembling hand, smirking through bloody teeth. "You think you stopped anything? We see everything, Detective. You're already dead."

Martha took a slow step forward, gripping her notebook. "Then why are you the one bleeding out?"

Before he could answer, headlights flared in the distance. More of them were coming.

I grabbed Martha's arm. "We need to move. Now."

She hesitated, then nodded, backing toward the truck. "There's someone else we need to find. The only one left who knows the truth."

"Who?"

Martha looked at me, her eyes dark with determination.

"Gerald's source. The one he died protecting. If we don't find him first, they will."

As we sped off into the night, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Another message had come through-one that made my blood run cold.

'STOP DIGGING. WE KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE.'

I stared at the screen, my pulse hammering. They didn't just mean me as a detective. They knew something deeper-something I wasn't even sure I wanted to uncover.

As we disappeared into the night, one thing became terrifyingly clear.

The hunters were no longer just watching.

They were inside our lives.

And one of us might already be compromised.