Chapter 29 - The Interrogation Tape
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By noon the next day, the Phoenix house felt like a hollow shell. Crime scene tape fluttered in the front yard, and moving boxes were already stacked in the hallway. We couldn't stay here. The illusion of safety had been shattered the moment Vance Hale stepped onto our porch.
I was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of black coffee, when Julian walked in with a encrypted tablet tucked under his arm.
"Grace is asleep?" Julian asked, setting the tablet on the granite island.
"Finally," Irene said, walking in behind him and wrapping a warm cardigan around her shoulders. "She cried for an hour. I think she senses the tension. What do you have, Julian?"
Julian tapped the screen, bringing up a secure video feed. "I have a contact inside the federal holding facility. They put Vance in an interrogation room at 6:00 AM. Ten minutes later, the cameras mysteriously malfunctioned. This is the audio from his cell right before the blackout."
He pressed play. There was the sound of a heavy metal door slamming shut.
"You're a dead man, Vance," an unidentified voice whispered on the recording.
"Tell the Architect I didn't say a word," Vance's voice replied, trembling with a fear I hadn't seen in him last night. "I kept my mouth shut!"
"The Architect doesn't take chances," the voice responded coldly. There was a sharp gasp, the sound of a struggle, and then dead silence.
Julian turned off the tablet. "Vance Hale was found dead in his cell an hour ago. They're calling it a suicide, but we know better."
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Irene covered her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. "Who is the Architect?"
"The man who runs the global syndicate Vance worked for," Julian said grimly. "And if the Architect has moles inside the federal holding facility, it means the FBI can't protect us. We are completely on our own. Pack your bags. We leave in ten minutes."
