The Cost of Truth and the Fall of the Richards Family Dynasty
His face remained expressionless as he scanned the lists of serial numbers and bank routing codes.
“This is active defense fraud,” he murmured, his finger tracing a line on the third page.
“It’s not just Gregory.”
“Who else is on there?” I asked.
Sterling looked up at me, his eyes grave behind his glasses.
“Two members of the Senate Armed Services Committee,” he said.
“And a sitting general at the Pentagon.”
My phone in my pocket began to vibrate again.
I pulled it out and looked at the screen.
It was a text message from an unregistered number, containing a single image.
I tapped the screen to open it.
The image was a live security camera feed of the driveway outside the cabin.
A pair of headlights was just turning off the main road, cutting through the thick fog toward us.
“We have to go,” Sterling said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
He reached down and closed the red folder with a sharp snap.
“The back door leads to the old logging trail,” he said.
He grabbed a heavy canvas jacket from a peg by the door.