Chapter 6 - What Was Hidden Inside
Kyle froze with his fingers inches from the SUV's handle.
The first trooper immediately turned.
"Step away from the vehicle."
Kyle lifted both hands, pretending confusion.
"I was just getting my phone."
"Step away," the trooper repeated.
This time the order carried no patience.
Kyle obeyed, but his eyes darted toward Derek. It was quick—too quick for most people to notice.
Walter noticed.
Derek's face had gone tight and pale. The confidence, the shouting, the fake outrage—most of it had drained away. What remained was calculation.
The second trooper moved to the passenger side and looked through the window. Rain streaked across the glass, but something inside caught his attention.
A backpack rested on the rear floorboard.
Beside it was a stack of papers clipped together.
And attached to the windshield, half-hidden behind the rearview mirror, was the small camera Kyle had adjusted before the crash.
The trooper pointed.
"Is that dash camera recording?"
Derek answered too fast.
"No."
Kyle answered at the same time.
"It broke."
Their conflicting replies hung in the air.
Walter gave no reaction, but the troopers heard everything.
"Interesting," Walter said softly.
Derek glared at him.
"You need to stop talking."
Walter met his eyes.
"That is what men like you usually say when the truth gets too close."
The trooper opened the SUV only after securing permission through procedure and documenting the visible evidence. Inside the backpack, he found more than a phone.
There were printed repair estimates from different body shops.
Several insurance forms under different names.
A list of elderly drivers with license plate numbers, vehicle descriptions, and handwritten notes.
At the bottom of one page, circled in red ink, was Walter's sedan.
The crowd went silent.
Even the rain seemed louder.
Kyle whispered, "That's not mine."
Derek snapped, "Shut up."
The trooper looked up.
"You two need to separate. Now."
Another police unit arrived, blocking the shoulder. Traffic was slowly redirected around the crash, but many witnesses stayed, unwilling to leave before understanding what they had just seen.
Walter stood beside his damaged sedan, hands folded over the top of his cane, watching the pieces come together.
Yet instead of relief, a shadow crossed his face.
Because the list in that backpack meant something worse than a simple two-man scam.
Someone had chosen targets.
Someone had tracked them.
And Walter knew from experience that men like Derek and Kyle were rarely the ones at the top.
As the trooper lifted the page with his license plate number, Walter's calm expression finally changed.
Not into fear.
Into recognition.
"Officer," he said quietly, "you may want to call a detective."
The trooper looked at him.
May you like
Walter's eyes stayed fixed on the paper.
"Because this is bigger than one crash."
