Dad, please come to the precinct right now... they're saying I hit him, but he locked the gates on me.
Toby’s words hung heavy in the air, thick with the smell of frying onions and his own fear. He kept his face buried, shoulders heaving. The kitchen staff moved around us, oblivious to the quiet drama unfolding.
“He told you *I* was coming?” I pressed, my voice low. “To burn it down?”
Toby nodded, still not looking up. “Yeah. He said you were gonna smash up the heavy equipment, too. Said you’d been talking about it for weeks, how you wanted revenge for… for everything.”
My chest tightened. Arthur had concocted a story to turn Toby against me, painting me as a destructive ex-con. It wasn’t just about Maya; it was about destroying my reputation, twisting Toby’s perception of reality.
“What did he tell you to do?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
Toby finally lifted his head, his eyes red and swollen. “He… he said to keep an eye out. To make sure no one got hurt. Then, if I saw you, to lock the gates, wait for a signal, and call the off-grid number he gave me.”
“Off-grid?”
“Yeah. Not the regular police line. He said it was faster. For emergencies.” Toby swallowed hard. “He gave me a burner phone, too.”
This was more elaborate than I thought. Arthur had planned this down to the burner phone, ensuring the call couldn’t be traced back to his personal line. He was covering his tracks, orchestrating a perfect trap.
“He paid me, Mr. Brody,” Toby blurted out, a fresh wave of shame washing over him. “One thousand five hundred dollars. In cash. Just for keeping watch and making the call.”
Fifteen hundred dollars. A significant sum for a kid like Toby. Enough to make him do something he knew deep down was wrong, especially if he believed he was protecting the yard from a perceived threat.
“He said it was to protect the business,” Toby continued, desperation in his voice. “He said you were dangerous. He promised me a bonus, too, if everything went smoothly.”
“Did he tell you Maya was going to be there?”
Toby shook his head violently. “No! Never! He just said ‘an intruder.’ I didn’t know it was Maya until I heard her yelling from the equipment garage after I locked the main gate. I tried to get her out, but she… she was already zip-tied inside.”
My blood ran cold. Maya had been restrained inside the garage before Toby even made the call. Arthur hadn’t just manipulated Toby; he’d used him as a pawn, a convenient patsy to cover up his own act of unlawful detention.
“When I saw her,” Toby whimpered, “she was trying to get out, struggling against the ties. That’s when I cut myself on the door latch, trying to open it up for her. Then she said she was trying to get to the office, to find something. And then…”
“Then the police showed up?” I finished for him.
Toby nodded miserably. “Yeah. And Arthur was there, suddenly. He just walked out of the office. He looked calm, like nothing had happened.”
This was the critical piece. Arthur himself had tied Maya up, or had someone do it, then lured her into the garage, setting the stage for Toby to “discover” an intruder and make the call. He had pre-staged Maya’s capture.
“Do you still have the burner phone?” I asked.
Toby fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a cheap, generic-looking phone. “Yeah. And some of the cash. Most of it.”
“I need you to tell me all of this, exactly as you told me, on my phone,” I instructed, pulling out my own phone. “Every detail. The cash, the burner, what Arthur said I was going to do. Everything.”
Toby looked terrified, but a glimmer of something else—relief, maybe—flickered in his eyes. He slowly nodded. He was scared, but perhaps even more scared of carrying Arthur’s lie alone. I hit record.
More Stories
+ There are no comments
Add yours