PART 33: THE LEDGER OF NINETEEN NAMES
No one spoke.
The tiny gold oak-tree emblem on the tablet seemed brighter than the attorney’s photograph.
Linda reached for the device.
“Zoom in.”
The deputy enlarged the image.
There it was.
Pinned to the attorney’s lapel.
The same oak-tree emblem.
The same symbol worn by the man on the bank surveillance video.
The same symbol reflected in Harold’s photograph.
It wasn’t a coincidence anymore.
It was a pattern.
The sheriff looked around the room.
“We’re no longer investigating one fraud.”
“We’re investigating an organization.”
Father Donnelly gave the faintest nod.
“Harold figured that out…”
“…a month before he died.”
Linda looked at him.
“Did he tell you how many people were involved?”
“No.”
“He only said one thing.”
“What?”
“‘You’ll never find them by following the money.’”
“‘Follow the funerals.’”
The words settled over the room.
Janice suddenly looked up.
“The funerals…”
Thomas turned toward her.
“What about them?”
“Richard always knew who had died before anyone else.”
Linda frowned.
“How?”
Janice’s eyes widened.
“Oh…”
“No…”
She covered her mouth.
“It wasn’t Richard.”
“It was someone who received death notices.”
The sheriff’s expression hardened.
“A funeral home.”
“Or a hospital.”
“Or…”
Linda finished the thought.
“…someone inside the county records office.”
The deputy holding the tablet cleared his throat.
“There was something else attached to Target Nineteen’s file.”
“What?”
“A scanned notebook.”
“Can we see it?”
He opened the image.
Every page was handwritten.
Dates.
Addresses.
Property values.
Names.
Then I noticed something that made my stomach tighten.
Each page ended with a single word.
Closed.
Except one.
The final page.
It wasn’t marked “Closed.”
It was marked:
Pending.
Linda leaned closer.
“Who’s the pending file?”
The deputy scrolled down.
There was only one name.
The room became so quiet I could hear Father Donnelly’s oxygen machine again.
The deputy swallowed.
“Mrs. Ellis…”
He turned the tablet toward me.
At the top of the page, in bold black letters, were the words:
TARGET #20
Below them…
was my full name.
Marguerite Ellen Ellis
My current address.
My date of birth.
Even the layout of my house.
Someone had updated the file only six weeks earlier.
Paula grabbed my arm.
“Mom…”
“They were still watching you.”
Linda’s face had become completely unreadable.
“No.”
She pointed to the bottom of the page.
“They weren’t watching.”
“They were preparing.”
I looked where she was pointing.
There was a checklist.
Residence verified.
Family structure updated.
Financial dependency confirmed.
Signature samples collected.
Every item had a neat blue checkmark beside it.
Only one line remained unfinished.
Its box was still empty.
I forced myself to read it.
Transfer completed.
My heart pounded.
They hadn’t been trying to take my house.
They had been waiting for the right moment to take everything.
Before anyone could speak, another deputy rushed into the room.
“Sheriff!”
“What now?”
“We just searched Harold’s old office one more time.”
“I thought we searched everything.”
“We missed one drawer.”
“What was in it?”
The deputy held up a small brass nameplate.
It had once been attached to the front of a desk drawer.
On the back, Harold had carved four words by hand.
LOOK UNDER THE FALSE BOTTOM.
Every person in the room froze.
If Harold had hidden one more compartment…
Then the biggest secret of all…
…might still be waiting exactly where he left it.
