Page 73 of Dead Air
"You sound certain for someone claiming to work against them."
"Five years studying their methods provides clarity about operational patterns." Richardson tapped another folder on the table. "My testimony against Thomas. Complete confession of my knowledge about the organization. Insurance policy in case something happens to me."
"Why tell me this now?" Lawson struggled to process everything Richardson had revealed. "Why not bring this evidence forward through proper channels?"
"Because there are no proper channels anymore." Richardson gestured toward the window. "Wallace controls the department. Thomas influences the district attorney."
"So you've been playing double agent." The realization crystallized as she examined more evidence. "Appearing to work within the system while actually gathering evidence against it."
"The only approach with potential for success." Richardson nodded. "Direct confrontation gets you killed. Ask Monica. Ask Blackwell."
"Yet here you sit, telling me everything." Lawson noted the contradiction. "Revealing your undercover operation to a detective with an active arrest warrant."
"Because we've run out of time." Richardson's expression hardened. "Thomas knows I've been investigating him. Ray likely revealed my questions before his death. They'll come for me next. Probably you as well."
"Then why not run? Disappear with your evidence?"
"Because running means they win." Something of the commanding officer Lawson had once respected emerged in Richardson's posture. "I've spent thirty years upholding the law. I won't abandon that commitment now when it matters most."
The cabin fell silent except for the ticking of a wall clock. Lawson studied Richardson across the table, searching for deception in his expression.
"I was protecting you." Richardson repeated, softer this time. "You loved her. They'd have killed you too."
"If you're telling the truth—" Lawson began.
"I am." Richardson interrupted with quiet certainty.
"Then we need to move this evidence somewhere secure. Before Thomas realizes you've shared it with me."
Richardson's expression relaxed slightly at her implied acceptance of his explanation. "I have copies secured with my attorney. Instructions to release everything if I don't check in daily."
"Not enough." Lawson gestured toward the folders. "Thomas has resources to intercept attorney communications. We need multiple distribution channels beyond his influence."
"We?" Richardson raised an eyebrow.
"Five years ago, Monica died investigating this network." Lawson met his gaze directly. "I'm finishing what she started, with or without your help."
For the first time since her arrival, Richardson smiled. Not his professional expression used for departmental functions, but something genuine carrying unexpected warmth.
"She would have appreciated your persistence." He gathered the folders into a larger evidence container. "Even when it bordered on recklessness."
"She would have expected nothing less." Lawson reached for the container, decades of anger toward Richardson not entirely displaced but temporarily suspended by shared purpose.
Outside, a twig snapped in the darkness. Both froze, professional instincts instantly alert. Richardson moved to the window, careful to remain outside direct sight lines.
"Vehicle approaching." His whisper carried urgent warning. "Lights off. Professional driving pattern."
Lawson joined him at the window, maintaining a similar tactical position. Moonlight revealed a dark SUV navigating the dirt road. No headlights. No identifying markings visible at this distance.
"Thomas sending a cleanup crew?" She kept her voice equally low.
"Or Wallace's team tracking your location." Richardson moved toward his weapon. "Either way, this conversation just got more complicated."
They watched in tense silence as the vehicle slowed near the final bend in the road. Its headlights suddenly activated, illuminating a reflective sign Lawson hadn't noticed during herapproach. The SUV paused for several seconds, then executed a three-point turn.
"They're leaving." Richardson's confusion matched her own.
The vehicle retreated back up the dirt road, red taillights diminishing until they disappeared around a distant curve.
