Chapter 5 - MY MOTHER FINALLY CHOSE A SIDE
My mother arrived at Grandpa's house at 8:17 that evening.
I remember the exact time because I stared at the clock when she knocked.
Grandpa opened the door but didn't invite her inside immediately.
“What do you want?”
“To see Ethan.”
Grandpa looked at me.
He let me decide.
That mattered.
“Come in.”
Mom stepped inside carrying nothing.
No purse.
No jacket.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
For years, I'd seen her standing behind Robert.
Now she stood alone.
“Ethan…”
I raised my hand.
“Did you know his name was Michael Kane?”
She started crying.
That answered me.
“How long?”
“Not at first.”
“How long?”
“Two years.”
I laughed once.
It wasn't humor.
“You knew for two years?”
“I found documents.”
“And you stayed.”
“He threatened you.”
“He was already hurting me.”
“I thought if I challenged him, he'd get worse.”
“He did get worse.”
She looked away.
For once, Grandpa didn't rescue either of us from the silence.
Mom finally admitted that Robert had targeted her.
He knew who her father was before their first conversation.
He knew Frank Sullivan had worked the Thomas Reed case.
He knew Grandpa had retired with boxes of personal notes, old contacts and memories that never appeared in formal files.
Robert believed Frank knew where Reed's missing evidence had gone.
“So he married you?” I asked.
Mom nodded.
“He wanted access.”
“To Grandpa?”
“To his house.”
Grandpa's eyes sharpened.
Mom explained that Robert frequently volunteered to repair things at Frank's home.
He had spent afternoons alone in the garage, attic and home office.
Grandpa swore under his breath.
“Did he find anything?”
“I don't know.”
Mom looked at him.
“But he was searching for something called the Ledger.”
Grandpa went still.
“What ledger?”
Mom shook her head.
“He never told me.”
Grandpa stood and walked toward his office.
When he returned, he was carrying an old wooden box.
Inside were letters, photographs and a notebook.
He turned to a blank-looking page in the back.
Then he held it under the lamp.
Faint impressions appeared.
Someone had written on the sheet above it years earlier.
Grandpa shaded lightly across the page with the side of a pencil.
Words emerged.
LEDGER — BANK ROUTES / KANE / MERCER / HOLT
Mom whispered, “Michael Kane.”
Grandpa nodded.
Thomas Reed had claimed that a handwritten ledger contained direct payment records linking members of the organization to officials, shell companies and bribes.
The ledger disappeared when Reed vanished.
Robert apparently believed Grandpa had it.
“I don't,” Grandpa said.
Mom looked terrified.
“Robert thinks you do.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas told him.”
Grandpa stared at her.
“Thomas Reed told Michael Kane I had the ledger?”
“No.”
Mom swallowed.
“He told Michael you knew where it was.”
Grandpa sat down slowly.
Then I asked the question nobody wanted to ask.
“Is Thomas Reed really dead?”
Grandpa looked at me.
“We never found a body.”
The room changed.
Mom whispered, “Robert said he was.”
“Robert lies.”
Then Mom said something that made Grandpa stand again.
“There was another name.”
“What name?”
“Samuel Beck.”
Grandpa nearly dropped the notebook.
I had never seen him react like that.
“Who is Samuel Beck?” I asked.
Grandpa walked toward the window.
“My former partner.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died sixteen years ago.”
Mom shook her head.
“No, Dad.”
Grandpa turned.
“Robert spoke to him six months ago.”
Nobody moved.
My grandfather had spent three years believing I was safe.
May you like
I had spent sixteen years believing Samuel Beck was dead.
And somewhere outside our house, a man named Michael Kane had just learned that both of those assumptions were wrong.
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