Ch.29: The Witness

We didn't go straight to the cemetery. Julian had a lead.

"The video," he said, tapping the dashboard. "The one of the alley. There was a witness."

"There was no one else in the video," I said, my eyes scanning the dark road. "Just the van, the mercenaries, and Mia."

"Look at the timestamp. 4:58 PM. Two minutes before they grabbed him. There's a shadow in the corner of the frame. A heat signature."

"A cat?"

"A person. Hiding in the cardboard boxes next to the dumpster."

"A homeless person?"

"A witness," Julian corrected.

We drove back to the city, to the alley behind Liam's apartment. It was cordoned off with police tape, but we slipped under it.

The boxes were still there. Wet, disintegrating pulp.

I shone my flashlight into the makeshift shelter. Empty. Just a few rags and a collection of empty bottles.

"He's gone," I said.

"He didn't go far," Julian said, pointing at the wall.

Scratched into the brick, barely visible in the grime, was a symbol. A circle with a line through it.

"Hobo code," I said. "It means 'dangerous neighborhood'."

"No," Julian said. "It's a tag. Look at the bottom."

There was a name scrawled in marker. **RATS.**

"We need to find Rats," Julian said.

We found him three blocks away, huddled over a steam grate. He was wrapped in layers of filthy coats, his face hidden by a tangled beard.

"Rats?" I asked softly.

He flinched, scrambling back. "I didn't see nothing! I didn't see nothing!"

"We're not cops," I said, holding up my hands. "We just want to talk."

"They took him!" Rats shouted, his eyes wild. "They took the kid! The nice kid with the guitar!"

"Liam," I said. "You saw them take Liam."

"The van," Rats whispered, rocking back and forth. "Black van. No plates. Men in masks."

"Did you see who was driving?" Julian asked, stepping into the light.

Rats looked at Julian. He frowned. "I know you. You're the rich boy. The one on the news."

"Did you see the driver?" Julian repeated, ignoring the recognition.

"I saw her," Rats said.

"Her?" I asked. "You mean Mia? My sister?"

"No," Rats shook his head violently. "Not the girl who closed the door. The driver. She stayed in the front."

"What did she look like?"

"She had fire on her head," Rats said. "Red hair. Bright red."

I froze.

"And her face?" I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.

"She turned," Rats said, tracing a line down his own cheek. "She had a mark. A scar. Right here."

I looked at Julian. He was already pulling out his phone, showing Rats a picture.

"Is this her?"

Rats recoiled. "Yes! That's the devil! She drives the death van!"

I stared at the photo on the screen.

Red hair. A scar on her cheek.

It wasn't Mia. Mia had closed the door, yes. But the person driving the van, the person who had orchestrated the pickup, the person who had told me she "didn't do wet work"...

It was Kael.

"She lied to me," I whispered.

"She played both sides," Julian said, putting the phone away. "She helped Sterling kill your brother, and she helped you escape to keep the game going. She's not an ally, Harper. She's the architect."

I gripped the stun baton. Kael had given me the shard. She had given me the Faraday bag. Why? To watch me fail? To watch me destroy myself?

Or to lead me right back to her.

"We have to go," I said. "Now."

We ran back to the car.

But as I reached for the handle, I saw it.

A reflection in the side mirror. A shadow moving in the darkness behind us.

Red hair catching the streetlight.

Kael.