Page 92 of Obscurity
The investigator nodded, and Olive sat beside Elias.
“You were at the lodge twenty years ago,” Olive said without preamble. “There’s a photograph in your main room showing a corporate retreat. Northwoods Investment Group.”
Elias’s expression grew guarded. “That was a long time ago.”
“My father was in that photograph. James Sterling. Do you remember him?”
Recognition immediately crossed Elias’s face, along with other more complicated emotions—surprise, wariness, and maybe even sadness.
“James Sterling,” he said. “Yes, I remember him. Brilliant man. Charming, knowledgeable.”
“What was the Northwoods Investment Group?”
He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I wasn’t privy to that information, and they were so secretive about things.”
“You really had no idea?”
“I had the impression they were some kind of development group. But everyone involved seemed successful and like good businessmen. They met here every year for three years. Then I never heard from them again.”
“Do you remember who any of the other men were?”
“Some of them. Businessmen, investors. One was named Henderson. He was about your father’s age. Very well-dressed, seemed to be in charge.” Elias’s expression darkened. “And now I understand why they were so interested in this area.”
Olive nodded, pieces of the puzzle finally beginning to form a coherent picture.
But how did her father fit into this?
And what did this mean about the shell company that now owned her family’s house, about Jason’s father’s possible connections to the conspiracy, about all the secrets that were still buried beneath decades of careful planning?
As Obscurity launched into their first song in the background—a perfectly executed performance for an audience that was mostly federal agents and crime scene technicians—Olive realized that solving the mystery of Chloe Kingston’s disappearance had only opened the door to much larger questions about her own family’s fate.
Questions that someone had been willing to kill to keep buried.
And now that person knew she was still alive, still asking questions, still searching for the truth.
The real investigation was just beginning. Maybe it was time she used some of her personal leave to find the answers that had been just out of reach for so long.
She looked over at Jason as he talked to one of the cops. His gaze met hers, and her cheeks flushed as she remembered the conversations they’d had this week.
Soon, she would have to decide. She couldn’t keep him hanging for too long.
She took a step toward him when someone called her name.
She turned and saw Tevin standing there, an odd look on his face.
“Are you okay?” She stepped closer, concern filling her.
Usually, they had more opportunities to chat and catch up while working these cases. She’d missed having that time with him on this case, but it just hadn’t been possible.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets, appearing strangely nervous. “Don’t choose him.”
She blinked, uncertain she’d understood him correctly. “What?”
“Jason.” He nodded at Jason. “Don’t pick him.”
Her heart beat harder. “What do you mean?”
Tevin reached forward and touched her arm. “Pick me, Olive. I’ve loved you since the day we met. I’ve just been too afraid of ruining our friendship to tell you.”
