Page 65 of Torgash

When I pull into the station parking lot, I take my time getting out. Let Knox see me walking in with my usual coffee and laptop bag, same routine as always. Let him report back that Sheriff Reyes stopped for coffee, chatted with Helen, and went to work. Business as usual.

The station is quiet this early. Roberta won't show for another hour. Santos is still running his overnight patrol. I'm alone with the evidence of my own corruption, about to join the list of dirty officials who've worked out of this building. Dawson. Morris. Now me.

My office feels different as I arrange it all on the desk. The recording, clearly labeled. Every file I've compiled on the foreclosure fraud. Bank records. Property transfers. Witness statements. A roadmap to destroying what Royce has built.

I write the note fast and direct:

Santos, This is what you need. The recording proves bribery and conspiracy. Use it. Ash will know what to do with the rest. The families deserve justice. Make sure they get it. N.

I place my badge on top of the stack. My service weapon goes in the desk drawer, locked.

Then I change clothes. Black jeans, dark sweater, boots that won't echo in empty hallways. I take my time hanging the uniform in the small closet by the bathroom. Each piece precisely aligned, smoothing my fingers over the crisp fabric one last time. Eight years of my life hung neatly on a wooden hanger.

Morris mapped every exit in this building, including the back window that opens to the narrow alley. The window opens onto the narrow alley behind the building, where dumpsters provide cover from the tree line and security cameras don't reach.

I boost myself up onto the sill. The drop is maybe five feet to the pavement below, nothing I can't handle. One last look at my office and what I'm leaving behind, then I swing my legs over and lower myself down.

I stay low, moving along the building's shadow until I reach the tree line. Movement near the front entrance catches my eye as I pause to scan the perimeter. Knox. He's leaning against a lamppost, eyes fixed on the front door, occasionally checking his phone. Probably texting updates to Ash or Diesel.

A twinge of guilt hits me as I watch him. He's just doing his job. Following orders. And in a few hours, he'll be the one facing Ash's fury when they realize I've disappeared. The prospect doesn't deserve that fallout, but there's no clean way out of this.

I ease deeper into the shadows, making sure he doesn't spot me. No sign of other surveillance from this angle—no watching eyes or waiting motorcycles.

I slip through the woods, keeping to the shadows. No other surveillance visible.

Twenty minutes through the woods, then residential streets back to my apartment. My sedan sits in the lot, packed with essentials only.

I scan the area one final time. No sign of Ash's bike or his massive frame waiting in the shadows. The street stays empty.

The way I planned.

I slide behind the wheel and allow myself one moment—just one—to look up at the window to the apartment where Derek's photograph still sits on the kitchen table.

My throat closes as I think of Ash hearing that recording. The cold dismissal in my voice when I called him useful. Access to intelligence. He'll believe it because I made sure it sounded true. I had to, so he won't try to follow.

Carman's photograph sits on my dashboard. Four years of keeping tabs on Derek, making his life hell in every legal way possible. Four years of hitting walls because the corruption ran deeper than one man.

Now I have the evidence to prove that conspiracy. And I'm leaving it behind.

The families will keep their homes. Ash will get his victory. Shadow Ridge will heal.

My fingers tighten on the steering wheel as the weight of what I'm doing crashes through me. I've spent my entire career believing in the system, in doing things by the book. Now I'm using that same system against itself.

The math is simple. If I stay, any lawyer destroys the recording as entrapment. But if I disappear after taking Royce's deal? The recording becomes evidence instead of misconduct. Ash gets what he needs to finish this legally.

I press my forehead against the steering wheel. Ash will hear those words—useful, access, nothing more—and believe them. He'll think what we had was strategy.

I pull back and start the engine. In my rearview mirror, Shadow Ridge shrinks to nothing. My badge, my life, my chance at justice for Carman—all of it left behind so Ash can do what I couldn't.

Stop the corruption legally. Save the families. Win the case.

The highway stretches ahead, empty and dark. I've got a full tank of gas and nowhere to go. No badge, no authority, no identity except the one I just burned to save a town that never trusted me.

Derek Sullivan gets to keep his new life. The corruption network that protected him stays buried. Carman's real killers will never face justice.

But Shadow Ridge will be free. Royce's family loses their stranglehold on the town. Families keep their homes. The cycle of corruption that's been strangling this place for years finally breaks.

And Ash gets to be the hero he's always been, instead of the monster everyone expects him to be.

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