Chapter 3 - A Grave With No Body
“Lena.”
Sheriff Nolan extended his hand.
“Come here.”
For most of her life, that voice had meant safety.
When she was sixteen and wrecked her first car, Nolan had arrived before the ambulance.
When her mother died, he had stood outside the church in the rain.
When Lena had trouble with a drunken customer at the diner, Nolan had personally driven him home.
Now her mother's letter trembled in Lena's hand.
Especially Thomas Nolan.
“What happened at the diner?” Lena asked.
Nolan's expression barely changed.
“We received a call.”
“From who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Lena, you're frightened.”
“Answer me.”
Nolan sighed.
“Carlos called.”
That was possible.
Carlos had seen them run.
Lena glanced at Jack.
He gave nothing away.
Nolan took another step.
“Come with me.”
“Why?”
“Because this man is dangerous.”
Jack laughed quietly.
“Still using that one, Tommy?”
Nolan's jaw tightened.
“You don't know what he's done, Lena.”
“Then tell me.”
“He and your father got mixed up with dangerous people.”
“My father is dead.”
Silence.
Lena watched Nolan carefully.
He should have corrected Jack.
Should have called him crazy.
Instead he said, “Some things should stay buried.”
The words landed heavily.
Lena held up the photograph.
“Is my father alive?”
Nolan stared at it.
Then at Jack.
“You shouldn't have shown her.”
That was the answer.
Lena's eyes filled.
“You knew.”
Nolan's face softened.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Is he alive?”
“I haven't seen Daniel in years.”
Not he's dead.
Years.
Lena stepped backward.
Nolan reached toward her.
Jack moved between them.
“Don't.”
Nolan's hand hovered near his gun.
“You think you can protect her?”
“I've been doing a better job than you.”
A second patrol car appeared in the distance.
Jack looked at Lena.
“We need to go.”
Nolan drew his weapon.
“Stay where you are.”
Lena froze.
Nolan pointed the gun at Jack.
She had known the sheriff for twenty years.
She had never seen his weapon outside its holster.
“Tom,” she whispered.
“Get behind me.”
“No.”
“Lena.”
“Put the gun down.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
The second cruiser approached.
Jack murmured, “That isn't county.”
Lena looked.
The vehicle had the correct markings, but no roof number.
Nolan saw it too.
His face changed.
“Damn it.”
“What?”
He lowered his gun.
“Get in Mercer's truck.”
Lena stared.
“You just told me—”
“NOW!”
The cruiser accelerated.
Jack grabbed Lena.
Gunfire cracked across the gas station.
The front window exploded.
Jack shoved Lena behind the truck.
Nolan fired toward the approaching vehicle.
The cruiser swerved.
Jack climbed behind the wheel.
Nolan opened the rear door.
“You're coming?”
“Drive!”
They escaped onto the highway as another shot shattered the pickup's rear window.
Lena crouched below the dashboard.
Her entire world had become gunfire, lies, and men who apparently knew secrets about her father.
Ten minutes later, Jack turned onto an unmarked dirt road.
Nolan kept watching behind them.
“No tail.”
Jack glanced at him.
“You sold us out?”
“No.”
“Someone knew where we were.”
“They tracked your truck.”
Jack cursed.
Lena looked between them.
“Would somebody please tell me what is happening?”
Neither answered.
She screamed.
“STOP THE TRUCK!”
Jack stopped.
Lena got out.
This time both men followed.
She turned on them.
“My father is alive. My mother lied. Two men came after me at work. Somebody shot at us. The sheriff I've known since childhood apparently knows the biker who showed up with a photograph of my supposedly dead father. So one of you is going to tell me the truth, or I walk.”
Nolan looked at Jack.
Jack nodded.
The sheriff exhaled.
“Your father discovered evidence connecting Gideon Vale to dozens of illegal financial operations.”
“I heard that part.”
“What Mercer didn't tell you is that Daniel didn't work alone.”
Nolan pointed to himself.
“I helped him.”
Lena stared.
“I was a deputy. Jack handled security for one of Vale's trucking companies. Daniel approached both of us separately.”
Jack continued.
“We collected records for almost two years.”
“Why wasn't Vale arrested?”
“Because someone inside the investigation warned him,” Nolan said.
“Who?”
“We never found out.”
Vale retaliated.
A witness disappeared.
A federal investigator died in a staged accident.
Then somebody photographed twelve-year-old Lena walking home from school.
Daniel understood the message.
Stop.
Or lose your daughter.
“He decided to disappear,” Jack said.
“But why fake his death?”
“Because Vale needed to believe Daniel's evidence died with him.”
Lena looked at Nolan.
“And Mom?”
“Claire agreed.”
“She agreed to let me believe my father was dead?”
Nolan looked away.
“She believed grief was safer than fear.”
Lena wiped angry tears from her cheeks.
“Where did you bury him?”
Jack frowned.
“What?”
“The funeral. The grave. If there wasn't a body, what was in the coffin?”
Neither man answered.
That silence told her something else had been hidden.
“What was in it?”
Nolan finally said, “Concrete.”
Lena almost laughed.
“You buried concrete.”
“Yes.”
“I want to see it.”
“Lena—”
“I want the grave opened.”
Jack shook his head.
“That would attract attention.”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
“My entire life was built around that grave. I want to see it empty.”
Nolan studied her.
Then nodded.
“There's another way.”
They drove to Bellhaven Memorial Cemetery after sunset.
Nolan used an old service entrance.
Daniel Harper's grave lay beneath an oak tree.
Lena hadn't visited in almost a year.
The stone read:
DANIEL JAMES HARPER
1971–2009
BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER
She touched the word father.
For seventeen years, she had spoken to this stone.
Birthday wishes.
Graduation news.
Boyfriends.
Heartbreak.
Her mother's illness.
Everything she wished she could tell him.
And he had been alive somewhere.
Jack knelt near the rear of the marker.
“What are you doing?”
“Your mother left something here.”
He dug beneath a loose stone and uncovered a small metal box.
Inside was a key.
Lena stared.
“Mom knew this was here?”
“Yes.”
“What does it open?”
“Daniel's old workshop.”
“The garage was sold years ago.”
“Not that workshop.”
Nolan looked uneasy.
“Jack.”
“She deserves everything now.”
Jack handed Lena the key.
They drove six miles outside Bellhaven to an abandoned farmhouse that Lena remembered from childhood.
Her father used to bring her there.
He told her it belonged to a friend.
Behind the barn was a storm cellar.
The key opened it.
Inside, dust covered shelves and old tools.
Jack found a breaker.
Lights flickered on.
Lena gasped.
Photographs covered one wall.
Hundreds.
Her.
Age thirteen.
Fourteen.
Seventeen.
Prom night.
College graduation.
Working at the diner.
Sitting beside her mother's hospital bed.
Lena moved closer.
Every photograph had a date.
Her father had been watching her grow up.
She didn't know whether to feel loved or violated.
Then she saw the newest photograph.
It showed Lena leaving the diner.
Yesterday.
Written beneath it:
They're back.
Lena turned.
“Jack?”
He was staring at another wall.
A map hung there.
Several names were crossed out.
One remained circled in red.
GIDEON VALE.
Below it, in Daniel's handwriting, were four words:
He knows about Lena.
Then they heard footsteps upstairs.
May you like
Someone else was inside the farmhouse.
And whoever it was had followed them there.
