Detective Pike took my phone from me long enough to photograph the messages, record the number, and forward the images to a forensic technician. He did not bother pretending there was any version of the next hour in which Gabriel, Rachel, or I would be allowed near the lake house.
“No one goes there,” he said. “Not you. Not your husband. Not his sister.”
Gabriel leaned against the table. “He asked Chloe to come alone.”
“Which is precisely why she won’t.”
“You think Dad expects police?”
“I think your father is improvising.”
Rachel had wrapped both hands around a mug she was not drinking from. The sedative had mostly worn off, but she still looked exhausted, her movements slower than usual. “If he knows the originals are there, he could burn the place before you arrive.”
Pike looked at her.
“We’ll move fast.”
“That’s what Mom probably thought.”
The detective did not answer that.
He made two calls, spoke in abbreviations, and requested units closer to the lake property. Then he asked Gabriel for everything he knew about the house: entrances, outbuildings, shoreline access, any old keys that might still work.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“There’s a rear mudroom door. It sticks in winter. Front porch entrance. Kitchen door on the east side. Cellar access outside.”
“Other structures?”
“A boathouse.”
“Distance?”
“About sixty yards downhill.”
Pike wrote it down.
“And where did you hide from storms?”
Gabriel looked toward the window.
“In the loft.”
Rachel frowned. “What loft?”
“Above the old workshop.”
“There’s a workshop?”
“Attached to the boathouse.”
“You never took me there.”
“You hated the lake.”
“I hated Dad yelling because I got mud in the car.”
Evelyn watched them quietly.
Pike asked, “Why would your mother reference that place?”
Gabriel rubbed his thumb against the edge of the table.
“When I was nine, there was a thunderstorm. Granddad and Dad were fighting in the house. I hid in the loft because nobody ever looked there.”
“Your mother knew?”
“She found me.”
Pike looked up.
“Did Gerald?”
“No.”
That was the first thing we had heard all day that Eleanor had successfully hidden from him.
The detective stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I can identify the hiding place.”
“Give me directions.”
“You won’t find it.”
“Try me.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
I knew that expression. He had inherited it from Gerald, though in him it came without the assumption that everyone else would surrender.
He drew a quick map on the back of Pike’s notepad.
The boathouse sat downhill from the main house. The workshop was attached along its northern wall. Inside, above an old rack of fishing rods, a narrow ladder led to a half-floor loft concealed behind beams.
Pike folded the page.
“If your father contacts you again, do not respond.”
He looked at me specifically.
“Understood?”
“Yes.”
He left.
The room remained quiet until we heard his car pull away.
Then Gabriel looked at me.
“He’s right.”
“About what?”
“You’re not going.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He exhaled.
“I needed to hear you say it.”
Rachel gave him a tired look.
“She said she knew the message was a trap.”
“Knowing and going anyway are two different things.”
I turned toward him.
“Are you planning to go?”
He did not answer.
That was answer enough.
“Gabriel.”
“If Dad gets there first—”
“Police are already moving.”
“You really think Dad is standing around waiting for them?”
“No.”
“Then he’s destroying whatever Mom left.”
Rachel set down the mug.
“And if you go, he’ll control the scene again.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“What do you suggest?”
“For once? Let somebody else arrive before us.”
The words landed.
He looked away.
Twenty-two minutes passed.
Then thirty.
Pike did not call.
I checked my phone twice even though I knew he had my number.
At forty-one minutes, a message arrived.
Not from Pike.
Unknown number.
A photograph opened on my screen.
The lake house porch.
Closer this time.
The front door stood open.
Beneath the image:
TOO SLOW.
Gabriel saw it over my shoulder.
“He’s there.”
“Or wants us to think he is.”
A second image arrived.
This one showed the inside of the boathouse.
Old timber rafters. A hanging lantern. A stack of warped paddles.
The angle was from the doorway.
Gabriel whispered, “That’s it.”
Rachel stood.
“Call Pike.”
I did.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then Evelyn’s phone rang.
She stared at the display.
“Unknown.”
“Don’t answer,” Gabriel said.
She did.
“Hello?”
Nobody spoke.
Then a man’s voice came through.
Not Gerald.
“Evelyn?”
She went pale.
“Yes?”
“Don’t let them come here.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“Who is this?”
The man hesitated.
Then said, “Daniel.”
Mercer.
Gabriel took the phone.
“Where are you?”
“At the lake house.”
Every face changed.
“What?”
“I got a message too.”
“What did it say?”
“That Eleanor left something for me.”
“You told us you hadn’t been there in six years.”
“I hadn’t.”
“Where’s my father?”
“I haven’t seen him.”
“Police are on the way.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I saw two cars on the north road.”
Gabriel turned toward me.
“Are you inside?”
Mercer said, “Yes.”
“Get out.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
A sound came through the phone.
Wood striking wood.
Then Mercer lowered his voice.
“Someone else is here.”
The line went dead.
Evelyn stared at the phone.
“Daniel?”
Nothing.
Gabriel was already reaching for his coat.
I blocked him.
“No.”
“Move.”
“Pike has officers there.”
“Mercer’s inside.”
“And what exactly are you going to do?”
“Find him.”
Rachel moved beside me.
“Gabriel.”
He looked at both of us.
There was fear in him now, naked and furious.
“If that’s Dad—”
“Then running into the house is what he wants,” I said.
He stopped.
I could almost see the struggle in his face.
Every instinct he had been raised with told him action meant control.
Gerald had taught him that.
The difference was beginning to matter.
Evelyn whispered, “Call Pike again.”
This time he answered.
His breathing was fast.
“Stay where you are.”
“Mercer’s at the house,” I said.
Silence.
“What?”
“He called us from inside.”
Pike swore.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Do not contact him again.”
“What’s happening?”
“We found a vehicle.”
“Gerald’s?”
“No.”
“Whose?”
“We’re checking.”
Then someone shouted near him.
Pike said, “I have to go.”
The line disconnected.
For nine minutes, no one spoke.
Then Pike called back.
“We have Mercer.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Dad?”
“Not located.”
“What happened?”
“Mercer was inside the workshop.”
“Was he hurt?”
“Minor head injury.”
Rachel whispered, “Who hit him?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“What vehicle did you find?”
Pike paused.
“It belongs to Martin Voss.”
The room went still.
“That’s impossible,” Gabriel said. “Martin’s in custody.”
“Yes.”
“Then who drove it?”
“That is what we’re trying to determine.”
I thought of the name Calder Holdings.
Martin’s shell company.
Martin staging Eleanor’s photographs.
Martin in my bedroom.
A useful man with useful property.
“Was anything destroyed?” I asked.
“No fire.”
“Did you find the loft?”
Pike hesitated.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Something had already been removed.”
Gabriel swore.
“What?”
“There’s a recessed compartment in the floor.”
“Empty?”
“Not entirely.”
“Meaning?”
“We found one metal cashbox.”
Rachel gripped the table.
“What was inside?”
“Paper records. Several audio cassettes. One small notebook.”
Evelyn whispered, “Eleanor.”
“We believe so.”
Gabriel asked, “You said not entirely. What’s missing?”
Pike inhaled.
“The compartment was large enough for at least two boxes.”
Nobody moved.
“One is gone,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Recently?”
“Fresh marks. Dust disturbance.”
Gabriel looked at me.
Gerald’s message.
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE ORIGINALS.
He had known there was more than one box.
Pike continued.
“There’s another issue.”
“What?”
“Mercer says the person who hit him wasn’t Gerald.”
Rachel frowned.
“Did he see them?”
“Briefly.”
“Who?”
“He won’t say until I’m with him.”
“Why?”
“He claims he needs to be certain.”
A muffled voice sounded near Pike.
Then Mercer himself came on the line.
“Gabriel?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I should have come six years ago.”
Gabriel said nothing.
Mercer continued.
“I found the compartment before whoever attacked me arrived.”
“Was the second box there?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel’s head lifted.
“You saw it?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to it?”
“I opened it.”
“And?”
“There were photographs.”
“What photographs?”
Mercer’s voice changed.
“Your mother had been following Gerald too.”
The words caught all of us off guard.
“Following him where?” Gabriel asked.
“To meetings.”
“With whom?”
“One person appeared repeatedly.”
“Who?”
Mercer breathed out.
“Evelyn.”
Everyone turned toward her.
She stepped backward.
“That’s not possible.”
Mercer heard her.
“I’m sorry.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I met Gerald all the time. He was my brother.”
“No,” Mercer said. “These weren’t family meetings.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The photographs were taken at Calder properties.”
Her face went white.
“I’ve never been to any Calder property.”
Mercer was silent.
Then he said, “There was also a ledger.”
Pike spoke in the background.
“Daniel, stop.”
But Mercer continued.
“Evelyn’s name was in it.”
Gabriel stared at his aunt.
Rachel whispered, “What does that mean?”
Evelyn looked genuinely frightened.
“I don’t know.”
Mercer said, “Neither do I.”
“Where is the ledger now?” I asked.
The answer came from Pike.
“Gone.”
“With the second box?”
“Yes.”
“And the attacker took it?”
“We believe so.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She was trembling.
Not with guilt.
Or not only guilt.
Something else had surfaced.
Recognition.
I stepped closer.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
Then whispered, “The old Calder warehouse.”
“What about it?”
“I told you I’d never been there.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“I lied.”
Gabriel took a step toward her.
“Why?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“Of what?”
Evelyn opened her eyes.
“Your mother asked me to go there.”
Rachel stared at her.
“When?”
“Three days before she died.”
“And you went?”
“Yes.”
“What did she show you?”
Evelyn looked at all of us.
“Nothing.”
“That makes no sense.”
“She never came.”
Gabriel frowned.
“You were supposed to meet Mom?”
“Yes.”
“At a Calder warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“And she didn’t show?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Evelyn’s voice broke.
“Gerald.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: Evelyn Finally Admitted What Gerald Made Her Do at the Calder Warehouse Three Days Before Eleanor Died
At Midnight Gerald Brought Me a Glass of Mango Juice and Refused to Leave Until I Drank It
Part 9 of 35
