“They knew he knew,” I say.
“They knew your father was close to shutting it down,” Gabe says. “They knew he had proof. And they knew once he moved, the shipment was dead.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“So they killed him.”
“Yes.”
The word lands like a blow. Not shocking. Just brutal in its simplicity.
“They didn’t kill him to expand,” Gabe continues. “They killed him because the shipment was already too far along to abandon. There was too much money on the water. Your father became an obstacle they couldn’t afford.”
He brings up another image. It’s timestamped, geo-tagged, and closer to the port.
“They still needed time,” he says. “Time to make sure the container reached its destination.”
“So someone on the inside had to make sure nothing slowed it once our port was listed,” I say. “Not approval. Just a clear path.” I pause. “Did Tripp’s access touch that lane?”
Tripp is the one variable I haven’t been able to resolve.The story he told sounded impossible. Too thin. I needed it to break somewhere. Otherwise, his death meant nothing.
Gabe straightens, as if he’s been waiting for the question. “Yes. But not in the way you think. He was telling the truth.”
I hold his gaze. “How do you know?”
He switches the display—no photos this time. A data map. Timestamps, metadata, location pings.
“Wells traced the account that first contacted Tripp,” Gabe says. “The one who told him to make himself useful. It wasn’t Duvall. And it wasn’t anyone inside their operation.”
My stomach tightens. “Then who?”
“Your father.”
The room goes quiet.
“You’re sure?” I ask. Not because I doubt him—but because it never occurred to me.
Gabe nods once. “We followed the trail all the way back. Robert didn’t want anyone else to know. Not Vin. Not Wells. Not you.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “Why Tripp?”
“Because he was low-risk,” Gabe says. “He wasn’t chasing leverage. He wasn’t tied to any single operator or terminal. He moved easily through shared spaces without drawing attention.”
Shared spaces.
My father wasn’t looking for power. He was looking for invisibility.
“And no one knew he was being watched,” Gabe continues. “Tripp already had access to the overlap points—vendors, terminals, third-party operators. Your father didn’t need to bring him inside to see how he’d behave.”
I nod slowly.
“He wasn’t recruited,” I say. “He was selected.”
“Exactly,” Gabe says. “Your father wanted to see how he handled limited direction. Whether he stayed in his lane. Whether he could follow the scope without needing validation.”
Not used.
Observed.
