Chapter 25 - The Empty School
Oakridge Elementary closed immediately.
Parents received an emergency message blaming a utility problem.
No one mentioned Hal Mercer.
Federal agents, bomb technicians, and local police entered the building before sunrise.
Every hallway was searched.
Every classroom.
Every locker.
Every maintenance space.
Nothing.
Then Rebecca explained what Hal meant.
“Not inside the school.”
“Where?” Miller asked.
“The old storm tunnels.”
Oakridge had been built in the 1950s.
Beneath the property was a discontinued drainage system connecting the school grounds to several blocks of underground utility passages.
Most entrances had been sealed decades ago.
Most.
City engineers produced maps.
One tunnel extended toward an abandoned municipal maintenance building.
Another ended near a storm drain behind the baseball fields.
A third ran beneath private property once owned by Whitmore Development.
Mercer had access long before anyone suspected him.
Agents entered the tunnels.
They discovered a hidden room.
Not large.
But organized.
Batteries.
Water.
Food.
Radios.
Medical supplies.
Another escape cache.
On the wall were photographs of Owen and Lucas.
I felt sick when Miller showed me.
But there were also photographs of other children.
Children of officials.
Prosecutors.
Contractors.
People connected to the corruption case.
Mercer had cataloged everyone’s vulnerabilities.
“He was never planning to hurt all of them,” Miller said.
“How can you know?”
“Because information was his weapon. He wanted leverage.”
“He threatened my sons.”
“Yes.”
“And fired at someone he thought was me.”
Miller did not argue.
Mercer was changing.
Control had failed.
Now rage was taking over.
Rebecca provided another detail.
Hal suffered from a heart condition.
He required daily medication.
His supply was running low.
That gave investigators a new trail.
Pharmacies.
Clinics.
Black-market contacts.
Within hours, a pharmacist forty miles west reported a suspicious man attempting to obtain the exact medication using forged identification.
Security footage confirmed Mercer.
Police arrived twelve minutes too late.
But now they had direction.
West.
Toward the mountains.
Toward Pinecrest.
Again.
I finally understood why he kept returning to the lake.
Not because of me.
Because the mountain road crossed three counties and led toward the state border.
Remote cabins.
Forest service roads.
Thousands of places to disappear.
Pinecrest was his corridor.
The happy family memory I associated with the lake had made me overlook the geography.
By afternoon, roadblocks appeared along every major route.
Mercer would know.
So he would use smaller roads.
Grant was brought onto another secure call.
“You know the mountain routes?” Miller asked.
Grant nodded.
“Hal bought land up there years ago.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know all of it.”
“You better remember.”
Grant looked tired.
“Check properties tied to Northstone Environmental.”
Agents searched.
Three parcels.
One was nothing but forest.
One contained an abandoned mining shed.
The third had an old ranger cabin near the state line.
Teams moved.
Melissa sat beside me.
“This is almost over.”
I looked at her.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because every time somebody says that, something explodes.”
She actually laughed.
It surprised both of us.
For a moment the tension broke.
Then my phone rang.
Oakridge principal.
I answered.
“Mr. Vance, I’m sorry to bother you.”
“What happened?”
“There’s something here belonging to Lucas.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A backpack.”
Lucas’s blue backpack was found inside a classroom closet.
But Lucas had his backpack with him.
It was a duplicate.
Inside was a stuffed rabbit identical to his.
And a note.
COME TO THE LAKE ALONE.
I closed my eyes.
Mercer knew agents would see it.
He knew I would not be allowed to go alone.
Which meant the message was not an instruction.
It was manipulation.
Miller agreed.
“He wants to pull resources toward Pinecrest.”
“So he can go somewhere else.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
We looked at the map.
School.
Shop.
Melissa.
Grant.
Me.
Every target represented betrayal.
Then Melissa whispered, “The courthouse.”
Miller frowned.
“Why?”
“Hal testified there.”
The place where his immunity agreement was approved.
Where he believed he escaped.
Where Melissa had just testified against him.
His symbol of control.
Federal units raced downtown.
The courthouse had closed early because of security concerns.
Only maintenance workers remained.
At 6:22 PM, a smoke detector activated on the third floor.
Police entered.
They found a small fire in a records room.
Then a maintenance worker unconscious nearby.
Alive.
His uniform missing.
Mercer had been there.
Security footage showed a maintenance employee leaving through the basement exit minutes earlier.
Gray hair hidden beneath a cap.
Mercer crossed the street.
Walked calmly through a parking garage.
Then disappeared.
But one camera captured him entering a vehicle.
A city-owned sedan.
Miller zoomed in on the license plate.
I recognized the destination code on the windshield.
Family Court Services.
The office responsible for supervised visitation.
Melissa stood up.
“My boys’ visitation records are there.”
So were addresses.
May you like
Schedules.
And tomorrow morning, Melissa was supposed to meet Owen and Lucas there.
