Former physician disappeared on Mount Rainier, four years on the revelation stunned everybody

We’ll send a unit to check on you. Can you safely stay where you are? I have to go back out there, or he’ll get suspicious. Please hurry.

Charlotte ended the call and took several deep breaths, trying to compose herself. She splashed cold water on her face, practiced a neutral expression in the mirror, and walked back out with what she hoped looked like calm. The sight that greeted her made her stomach drop.

Harrison had moved from his side of the table to her side of the booth, blocking her exit. His coffee sat abandoned across the table. There you are, he said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

I was starting to worry. Charlotte forced herself to slide into the booth, pressed against the wall. Sorry, I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything today.

Understandable, Harrison’s tone had shifted, the false sympathy replaced by something harder. You know, I drove past your house this morning on my way to the hospital. Early, around six, noticed you had boxes out by the curb.

Spring cleaning in October? Charlotte’s mouth went dry. There had been no boxes by her curb. I don’t, don’t lie to me, Charlotte.

The words came out sharp, cutting through the coffee shop ambiance. I saw you loading boxes into your car at the storage unit. Mrs. Chen was quite chatty about your activities.

I should go, Charlotte said, trying to slide past him. Harrison didn’t budge. What did you find? Nothing, just memories, like I said.

Charlotte’s voice came out higher than intended. Robert kept copies of everything, didn’t he? Always so thorough, so self-righteous. The last words came out as a hiss.

Charlotte pushed harder against him. I need to leave, my sister is expecting me. For a moment, Harrison didn’t move, then slowly he stood.

Of course, let me walk you to your car. It wasn’t a request, Harrison’s hand was on her elbow, his grip firm as he guided her toward the exit. Charlotte scanned the coffee shop desperately, hoping to catch someone’s eye, but everyone was absorbed in their own conversations, their own lives.

The October air hit her face as they stepped outside, and with it came a new level of fear. The parking lot was nearly empty, her car parked in the far corner where she’d thought it would be visible from the window. Now that distance felt like miles.

Where are they? Harrison’s voice had lost all pretense of friendliness. Where are what? His grip tightened painfully. The documents, the files, whatever Robert kept.

I know he made copies. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Harrison spun her around, slamming her back against her car.

Don’t play stupid with me. Robert was going to ruin everything with his self-righteous attitude. 40 years of building a practice, creating jobs, helping people, and he wanted to destroy it all over some numbers on a spreadsheet.

James, you’re hurting me. Where are the files? He shook her, his face inches from hers. Did you give them to the police? The FBI, who else knows? Charlotte tried to pull away, but Harrison was stronger than his silver hair suggested.

Let go of me. People saw us leave together. If anything happens to me.

That’s when she saw the gun. Harrison pulled it from inside his jacket in one smooth motion, pressing it against her ribs. The metal was cold through her thin sweater.

Get in my car. James, please, get in the car. He shoved her toward his Mercedes, the gun hidden between their bodies, but unmistakably there.

Move. Charlotte’s legs felt like water. You don’t have to do this.

Whatever happened with Robert. Shut up. Harrison opened the passenger door, using his body to shield the gun from any potential witnesses.

Get in, or I’ll shoot you right here. Charlotte looked around desperately. The coffee shop windows reflected the afternoon sun, impossible to see through.

A woman walked past on the sidewalk, absorbed in her phone. No one was coming to help. Please, she whispered as Harrison shoved her into the seat.

I have grandchildren. You should have thought of that before you started digging. Harrison slammed the door and moved quickly to the driver’s side.

The gun now pointed at her across the center console. Hands where I can see them. Charlotte placed her shaking hands on her lap as Harrison started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

He drove with one hand, the gun steady in the other. You should have kept out of this, he said, his voice eerily calm now. Should have just accepted that Robert killed himself like everyone else did.

Four years, Charlotte, four years of peace, and you had to ruin it. You killed him? The words came out as a whisper, but Harrison heard them. Robert killed himself the moment he decided to be a hero.

Do you know how many people depended on my practice? Not just employees, their families, their children’s college funds, their mortgages. One sanctimonious doctor was going to ruin the lives of dozens of people. Charlotte began to cry, tears streaming down her face as Harrison drove faster, leaving the commercial district behind.

The familiar streets gave way to suburban neighborhoods, then to the rural roads that led toward Mount Rainier. He found discrepancies, didn’t he? Charlotte said through her tears. In the billing? Harrison’s laugh was bitter.

Discrepancies, such a clinical word for it. Robert couldn’t understand that sometimes you have to work the system to keep a practice afloat. Insurance companies deny legitimate claims while their executives get rich.

I was just leveling the playing field. By committing fraud, by surviving. Harrison’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

But St. Robert couldn’t see the gray areas. Everything was black and white to him. He was going to report me, destroy everything I’d built, send me to prison.

For what? For making sure my people could feed their families? The trees grew denser as they drove, the afternoon sun filtering through the canopy. Charlotte recognized the area. This was the road to the Sunrise Visitor Center, the same route Robert would have taken that October morning.

Where are you taking me? Where do you think? Harrison turned onto a dirt road, the Mercedes bumping over roots and rocks. Your husband liked to hike, thought the mountain gave him clarity. Let’s see if it does the same for you.

20 minutes of terrifying silence passed, broken only by Charlotte’s quiet prayers and the sound of gravel under the tires. Finally, Harrison pulled into a small clearing and shut off the engine. Get out.

Charlotte’s legs nearly gave out as she stood. The forest was quiet, peaceful even, birds calling in the distance. It seemed impossible that she was about to die in such a beautiful place.

Walk, Harrison gestured with the gun toward a narrow trail leading into the trees. We’re going to take a little hike, just like Robert did. They’ll find you, Charlotte said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice.

The police know I was with you. My sister knows. Your sister knows you had coffee with an old friend.

The police will find your car at the coffee shop and assume you went for a walk to clear your head. Grief does strange things to people. Sometimes they follow their loved ones.

He pushed her forward onto the trail. The gun pressed against her back. The trees closed in around them.

The afternoon light growing dimmer under the canopy. Move, Harrison commanded. We have some walking to do.

The forest floor was uneven, covered in fallen branches and exposed roots that caught at Charlotte’s feet. Harrison pushed her forward relentlessly, the gun barrel a constant pressure against her spine. Her breathing came in short gasps, both from exertion and fear.

Keep moving, Harrison commanded, his own breathing heavy. Don’t even think about running. You wouldn’t make it five feet…