Chapter 58 The Family History
Molly met with James Hartley's lawyer in a coffee shop near her home. The lawyer provided her with a sealed envelope that had been addressed to her personally by James Hartley before his death.
Inside the envelope was a handwritten letter. Molly recognized the handwriting from the documents James had originally provided her—the documents that had exposed the private investigation firm's conspiracy against her family.
The letter read:
Dr. Mitchell,
If you are reading this letter, then I am dead, and my lawyer has followed my instructions to contact you. I am writing to provide context that you deserve to know about my family and about the adoption agency crimes.
My cousin, Richard Hartley, was a deeply evil man. When I discovered the extent of his crimes, when I learned about the children he had harmed, when I understood the systematic nature of the corruption he had perpetrated, I faced a choice.
I could have reported him to authorities. I could have been a whistleblower. But I was afraid. I was afraid of being associated with his crimes. I was afraid of what exposure might mean for my own life and career. So instead, I did what many people do when confronted with family corruption: I looked away. I told myself that it was not my responsibility. I told myself that I had no evidence. I told myself that it would do no good anyway.
But that was a lie. My silence was complicity. My failure to act was a choice to allow the harm to continue.
In recent years, as I watched your work on criminal justice reform, as I saw how you were trying to create systems of accountability, I realized that I could no longer be silent. I could no longer live with the knowledge of what my cousin had done and what I had allowed him to do by my silence.
That is why I provided you with documents about the private investigation firm. I was trying to atone, in some small way, for my failure to expose my cousin when I had the opportunity.
But I am still not telling you the complete truth. I am still protecting myself even in this letter. So I will tell you now what you need to know.
Richard Hartley is not the highest-ranking person involved in the adoption agency crimes. Richard was a supervisor, but he was not the architect of the system. Above him was a man named Thomas Wheeler, who owned and operated the adoption agency. Thomas Wheeler is still alive. Thomas Wheeler is still powerful. And Thomas Wheeler is the person who should have been prosecuted years ago.
I believe that Thomas Wheeler has been working to hide the evidence of his crimes. I believe he has connections to people who can make evidence disappear, who can silence witnesses, who can protect him from prosecution. I cannot provide you with evidence of his guilt because I do not have access to that evidence. But I believe you are resourceful enough to find it if you know where to look.
I am providing you with his name and his current location. I am entrusting you with this information because I believe that you are someone who understands that accountability extends beyond the individual perpetrators to the systems that enabled them.
I am sorry that I did not have the courage to provide this information while I was alive. I am sorry that I allowed my fear to prevent me from speaking out. I hope that this letter, however imperfect, can serve as a small step toward the accountability that I failed to pursue during my lifetime.
Sincerely,
James Hartley
The letter included an address and information about Thomas Wheeler's current location. He was living in a small town in Montana, operating a ranching business as his cover.
Molly brought the letter to Agent Mitchell.
"Thomas Wheeler," Agent Mitchell said, her eyes widening. "We have been investigating Thomas Wheeler for years on completely different charges. We did not know that he was connected to the adoption agency."
"Where is he now?" Molly asked.
"According to our last intelligence, he is in Montana," Agent Mitchell said. "Exactly where James Hartley indicated. But Montana is a big state, and if he has resources, he could disappear."
"We need to move quickly," Molly said. "We need to apprehend him before he realizes that we are closing in."
Over the next several days, Agent Mitchell coordinated with federal authorities in Montana. They began surveillance on Thomas Wheeler's ranch. They began examining his financial records, looking for evidence of corruption and criminal activity.
What they discovered was a vast network of illegal activities. Wheeler was not just involved in adoption fraud. He was involved in money laundering, drug trafficking, human trafficking, and organized crime. His adoption agency had been just one part of a much larger criminal enterprise.
Moreover, agents discovered that Wheeler had been using the adoption agency specifically to identify and exploit vulnerable children. Some children had been sold to legitimate adoptive families. But others had been trafficked for sexual exploitation and labor. The scope of the crimes was staggering.
Molly was deeply affected by this discovery. She had known intellectually that the adoption agency was corrupt, but understanding the specific ways that children had been exploited, the systematic nature of the trafficking, the scale of the harm—it was overwhelming.
She decided that she needed to confront Thomas Wheeler directly, just as she had confronted Victor Castellano. She needed to understand his perspective, his justifications, his understanding of his own crimes.
"Absolutely not," Agent Mitchell said when Molly made this request. "Thomas Wheeler is far more dangerous than Victor Castellano. He has killed people. He has orchestrated violence. He is not someone you can safely meet with."
"Then I will meet with him publicly," Molly said. "I will request an interview, and I will bring security. I will record the conversation and release it. I will use it as part of my research on how systems of exploitation justify themselves."
Agent Mitchell was skeptical, but she eventually agreed to facilitate the meeting under strict security protocols.
Thomas Wheeler, who was arrested on federal charges and was awaiting trial, agreed to the interview. He agreed because he believed that he could charm Molly, could convince her that his crimes were exaggerated, could present himself as a victim of circumstance.
On the day of the interview, Molly sat across from Thomas Wheeler in a secure federal facility. He was a man in his seventies, with the appearance of wealth and privilege, with the bearing of someone who had always gotten his way.
"Dr. Mitchell," he said with a smile, "I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. I have heard a great deal about your work on criminal justice reform."
"I want to ask you directly," Molly said without preamble, "why did you do it? Why did you create a system to exploit vulnerable children and families?"
Thomas Wheeler's smile faded.
"Because I could," he said simply. "Because the system was designed to allow people like me to exploit vulnerable people. Because there was profit in it. Because no one stopped me."
"You killed people," Molly said. "You destroyed families. You trafficked children for sexual exploitation."
"Yes," Thomas Wheeler said calmly. "And I would do it again if I could. Because I do not believe that what I did was wrong."
This was not the response Molly had expected. She had expected denial, rationalization, or at least some claim to transformation. But Thomas Wheeler was offering no excuses, no justifications, no attempt to redeem himself.
"You do not believe that exploiting children is wrong?" Molly asked.
"I do not believe that anything is wrong," Thomas Wheeler said. "I believe that morality is a construct that serves the interests of those in power. And I was in power. So I used my power as I saw fit."
Molly realized in that moment that she was encountering a fundamentally different kind of criminal than she had studied before. Victor Castellano had been capable of transformation because he had eventually developed capacity for empathy and remorse. Thomas Wheeler had no empathy, no remorse, and no belief in morality beyond his own self-interest.
She ended the interview and left the facility.
"What do you think?" Agent Mitchell asked.
"I think," Molly said slowly, "that I have been studying transformation and redemption assuming that all human beings have the capacity for empathy, for understanding the harm they cause, for genuinely changing. But Thomas Wheeler has revealed to me that this assumption is not always valid."
"What does that mean for your work?" Agent Mitchell asked.
"It means that I need to expand my understanding," Molly said. "It means that I need to study not just transformation but also the absence of capacity for transformation. It means that I need to understand how systems protect people who cannot be rehabilitated, and how we ensure accountability for those people in ways that do not depend on their transformation."
As Molly was grappling with these new questions, she received a call from Sean.
"Come home," he said simply. "I need you to come home. There is something happening that you need to be present for."