Richard Cross kept staring at the photograph as though twenty-two years had collapsed into the space between his hand and my phone.<\/p>\n
The older man beside Kendrick wore a dark overcoat and no tie. His hair had gone almost completely silver, but the long face, narrow mouth, and deep-set eyes matched the young man in Richard\u2019s old photograph closely enough that denial became impossible.<\/p>\n
Lincoln stood behind his father\u2019s chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re certain?\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard enlarged the image again.<\/p>\n
\u201cI spent six years trying to find him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat wasn\u2019t my question.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. I\u2019m certain.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mouth had gone dry. \u201cMy parents told me Uncle Thomas died before I turned eleven.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard placed the phone carefully on the desk.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey may have believed it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what Mom\u2019s letter sounds like.\u201d<\/p>\n
No one answered.<\/p>\n
I reread the last line.<\/p>\n
If Thomas ever comes back, give everything to Abby.<\/p>\n
My name sat there in my mother\u2019s handwriting, written when I was a child who still thought adults told the truth because they were adults.<\/p>\n
Lincoln came beside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cCall Chelsea.\u201d<\/p>\n
I already was.<\/p>\n
She answered on the second ring. Her breathing sounded ragged.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbby?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt the hotel.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlone?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Mom is here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard\u2019s head lifted.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s Dad?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. He left about ten minutes ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLeft where?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe wouldn\u2019t say.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Richard.<\/p>\n
\u201cChelsea, send me the original photograph.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI already sent it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I mean the physical copy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did you find it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIn Kendrick\u2019s desk. Hidden under the bottom drawer.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard motioned for my phone.<\/p>\n
I switched to speaker.<\/p>\n
\u201cChelsea,\u201d he said, \u201cthis is Richard Cross.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her inhale came sharply through the line.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know who you are.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at the back of the photograph.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTurn it over.\u201d<\/p>\n
Paper moved against paper.<\/p>\n
Then Chelsea stopped breathing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does it say?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
She read slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cDecember eighteenth. Eleven forty p.m.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lincoln frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis year?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s anything else?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAn address.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat address?\u201d<\/p>\n
Chelsea hesitated.<\/p>\n
When she said it, the room went silent.<\/p>\n
My parents\u2019 house.<\/p>\n
Not the hotel.<\/p>\n
Not Kendrick\u2019s office.<\/p>\n
The house where Chelsea and I had grown up.<\/p>\n
The house where Dad kept family records in a locked study and Mom still stored our childhood things in labeled boxes.<\/p>\n
My mother was apparently standing only a few feet from Chelsea when she heard the address, because her voice suddenly cut through the call.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive me the phone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, wait.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cChelsea.\u201d<\/p>\n
A struggle of movement followed.<\/p>\n
Then Mom spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbigail.\u201d<\/p>\n
She sounded unlike the woman who had begged me not to leave the Harbor Grand an hour earlier.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you meet Thomas?\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI need you to listen to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat means yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnswer me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice lowered.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot on the phone.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cTwenty-two years of lies and you\u2019re still choosing when I\u2019m allowed to hear the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was trying to protect you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom a dead man who isn\u2019t dead?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom said nothing.<\/p>\n
Richard stepped closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cDiana.\u201d<\/p>\n
The line went completely quiet.<\/p>\n
When Mom spoke again, the tremor disappeared.<\/p>\n
\u201cRichard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI suspected.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor how long?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wrote to me twenty-two years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI remember what I wrote.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you remember what you asked me to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom\u2019s voice hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not involve Abby.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou involved me before I finished elementary school.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was different.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
No answer.<\/p>\n
Then I heard Chelsea say something far from the phone.<\/p>\n
Mom suddenly gasped.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
More movement.<\/p>\n
Then Chelsea took the phone back.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbby, Dad just texted me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe says he\u2019s at home.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard looked toward the windows.<\/p>\n
Lincoln was already moving.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
Chelsea read the message aloud.<\/p>\n
Your mother left something in my safe. I should have opened it years ago.<\/p>\n
I felt the blood drain from my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat safe?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know the one in his study.\u201d<\/p>\n
Of course I knew it. Dad had kept that floor safe behind a framed landscape painting since we were children. Chelsea once tried guessing the combination during a Christmas party and triggered an alarm loud enough to wake three neighboring houses.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell him not to open anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause if Thomas knows where the records are, Howard may be walking into exactly what Thomas wants.\u201d<\/p>\n
Chelsea swore.<\/p>\n
Mom\u2019s voice snapped from beside her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did Richard say?\u201d<\/p>\n
Before Chelsea could answer, my phone displayed another incoming call.<\/p>\n
Dad.<\/p>\n
I switched over.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad?\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice was strained.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbby.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs anyone with you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lincoln mouthed, Keep him talking.<\/p>\n
Dad continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need you to tell your mother I found it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFound what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe box.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard went still.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat box?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe one she put in my safe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDad, don\u2019t touch anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI already opened it.\u201d<\/p>\n
My grip tightened around the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was inside?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDocuments. Old account statements. Photographs. A cassette tape.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA key.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lincoln stepped closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad heard him.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs Lincoln with you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
A humorless exhale.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course he is.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDad, describe the key.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSmall. Brass. Number stamped into it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat number?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad?\u201d<\/p>\n
A floorboard creaked faintly through the speaker.<\/p>\n
His breathing changed.<\/p>\n
I looked at Lincoln.<\/p>\n
He had heard it too.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad, are you alone?\u201d<\/p>\n
No answer.<\/p>\n
Then, very quietly, my father said, \u201cI thought so.\u201d<\/p>\n
The call disconnected.<\/p>\n
I immediately called back.<\/p>\n
Straight to voicemail.<\/p>\n
Lincoln was already speaking into his own phone, asking someone to send police to my parents\u2019 address.<\/p>\n
Richard moved toward the study door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re going.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Lincoln said.<\/p>\n
Richard turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf Thomas is there, he may expect you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe expects Abby too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why neither of you should arrive before police.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stepped around them.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s my father.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lincoln caught my wrist gently.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd if Thomas wants you there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you suggest? I wait while Dad stops answering his phone?\u201d<\/p>\n
His grip loosened.<\/p>\n
He knew the answer before he gave it.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe go together.\u201d<\/p>\n
The drive took thirty-two minutes.<\/p>\n
It felt like an hour.<\/p>\n
Rain had begun again, streaking the windshield in thin silver lines. I sat beside Lincoln while Richard made three calls from the opposite seat. Nobody said much. There are moments when conversation becomes useless because everyone is privately negotiating with the worst thing that might happen next.<\/p>\n
I kept seeing my father behind his desk three weeks earlier.<\/p>\n
The check.<\/p>\n
The judgment.<\/p>\n
The certainty.<\/p>\n
I had been furious with him then.<\/p>\n
I still was.<\/p>\n
But anger did not make me less afraid of finding him hurt.<\/p>\n
When we reached the Mercer house, two police cars were already outside.<\/p>\n
The front door stood open.<\/p>\n
I was out of the sedan before Lincoln could stop me.<\/p>\n
An officer intercepted us on the walkway.<\/p>\n
\u201cFamily?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m his daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Mercer is safe.\u201d<\/p>\n
My knees almost gave way.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cInside.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas anyone else here?\u201d<\/p>\n
The officer\u2019s expression shifted.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re still determining that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard stepped forward and identified himself. That changed the officer\u2019s posture immediately. After a brief conversation, they let us into the foyer.<\/p>\n
Dad sat on the living-room sofa with a blanket around his shoulders.<\/p>\n
There was blood on his temple.<\/p>\n
I crossed the room before thinking.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked up.<\/p>\n
For one second, he simply stared at my wedding dress.<\/p>\n
Then his face collapsed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbby.\u201d<\/p>\n
I crouched in front of him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho did this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t see him clearly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHim?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI heard someone upstairs. I thought your mother had come home.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lincoln inspected the hallway without leaving my side.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened next?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI went to the stairs. Someone struck me from behind.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid they take anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad looked toward the study.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe box.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard\u2019s expression hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll of it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
That word changed the room.<\/p>\n
Dad reached into the pocket of his robe.<\/p>\n
\u201cI had one thing in my hand when he hit me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his palm.<\/p>\n
A small brass key lay there.<\/p>\n
Stamped into the metal were three characters.<\/p>\n
B-17.<\/p>\n
Richard stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that number.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lincoln turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA private-deposit facility Cross Global used more than twenty years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUsed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was shut after the breach.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard took the key.<\/p>\n
\u201cUnder the old Beacon Street headquarters.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad looked confused.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would Diana have this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat,\u201d I said, \u201cis what everyone apparently decided I didn\u2019t deserve to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad flinched.<\/p>\n
I regretted the timing but not the sentence.<\/p>\n
Lincoln crouched beside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHoward, did you know Thomas was alive?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad\u2019s face tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you know Diana thought he might be?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you know she worked for Cross?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told us she worked at an insurance office before you married.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe asked me never to discuss Cross Global.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said that period had nearly destroyed her life.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard\u2019s jaw worked.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she tell you Thomas stole information?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad nodded slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly that he had done something criminal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you never asked more?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did. She refused.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
Every secret in this family seemed to survive because somebody had decided not asking was the same thing as not knowing.<\/p>\n
My phone rang.<\/p>\n
Mom.<\/p>\n
I answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice was breathless.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs your father all right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe was attacked.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom made a small sound.<\/p>\n
Then she said, \u201cDid they take the box?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew someone would come for it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI hoped I was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho attacked him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas it Thomas?\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI met him once.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard stepped toward the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSix weeks ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gripped the edge of the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cBefore Kendrick\u2019s fund collapsed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell us?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause Thomas said if I contacted Richard, he would expose Howard.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad looked up sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cExpose me for what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom stopped.<\/p>\n
I turned toward him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice came very quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor helping me hide the records.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad stared at the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never knew what was in that box.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen what could he expose?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou signed the storage documents.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad\u2019s face changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat storage documents?\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard closed his eyes as though a missing piece had finally moved into place.<\/p>\n
\u201cBeacon Street,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Mom heard him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad looked from Richard to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI signed forms because Diana told me they were related to her resignation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard asked, \u201cDid Thomas know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe knows now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lincoln\u2019s phone buzzed.<\/p>\n
He read the message.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cPolice found something in the backyard.\u201d<\/p>\n
We followed an officer through the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Rain slicked the patio stones. Beyond the hedge near the rear gate, investigators had found a discarded overcoat.<\/p>\n
Dark wool.<\/p>\n
Exactly like the coat Thomas wore in Kendrick\u2019s photograph.<\/p>\n
Inside one pocket was a hotel key card.<\/p>\n
Harbor Grand.<\/p>\n
Chelsea\u2019s hotel.<\/p>\n
In the other was a folded piece of paper protected inside a plastic sleeve.<\/p>\n
The officer would not let us touch it, but he held it beneath the porch light.<\/p>\n
I recognized the handwriting immediately.<\/p>\n
My mother\u2019s.<\/p>\n
Three lines.<\/p>\n
If he comes back, B-17 is only the first place he\u2019ll look.<\/p>\n
The real records are where Abby buried the blue box.<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
Lincoln looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBlue box?\u201d<\/p>\n
For several seconds I could not speak.<\/p>\n
Then a childhood memory returned so sharply that I could smell summer dirt and wet grass.<\/p>\n
I was ten years old.<\/p>\n
Mom had brought me into the backyard at night.<\/p>\n
She had given me a little blue metal box and told me we were playing a treasure game.<\/p>\n
I had buried it somewhere beneath the old apple trees.<\/p>\n
And I had never seen it again.<\/p>\n
Richard Cross kept staring at the photograph as though twenty-two years had collapsed into the space between his hand and my phone. The older man beside Kendrick wore a dark … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9000,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9005","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9005","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9005"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9005\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9025,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9005\/revisions\/9025"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/9000"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9005"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9005"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9005"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}