Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN WATCHING OUR HOUSE
Detective Morgan didn't dismiss my mother's claim.
That surprised Mom.
Maybe she was used to living in a house where truth only mattered when Robert approved it.
The investigation expanded.
My abuse case remained separate, but Robert's identity triggered interest from federal investigators.
Grandpa hated the attention.
Not because he feared being exposed.
Because old cases had old ghosts.
Two days later, I noticed the woman.
Gray sedan.
Across from Grandpa's house.
She had been there Monday morning.
Again Tuesday.
Wednesday afternoon.
Same woman.
Dark hair.
Sunglasses.
Coffee cup.
I told Grandpa.
He didn't look outside.
That was one of those small things that reminded me who he had been.
Instead he asked, “How long?”
“Three days.”
“Same parking spot?”
“Almost.”
“Did she ever look directly at the house?”
“Yes.”
Grandpa called Detective Morgan.
Officers approached the car.
The woman didn't run.
She handed them identification.
Her name was Laura Beck.
Samuel Beck's daughter.
Grandpa nearly fell into a chair when they told him.
Laura agreed to come inside.
She was forty-three, controlled and suspicious.
The moment she saw Grandpa, tears filled her eyes.
“You really thought he was dead?”
Frank stared at her.
“I attended his funeral.”
“No, you attended a funeral.”
Grandpa's face turned pale.
Laura explained that her father had disappeared under witness protection after somebody inside the task force leaked confidential information.
His death had been staged.
Only a handful of officials knew.
“Why didn't he contact me?”
“He thought you might be compromised.”
That cut Grandpa deeply.
Laura continued.
Samuel had spent sixteen years living under another identity.
Six months earlier, he'd discovered Michael Kane was still alive.
Then Samuel disappeared again.
This time nobody had staged it.
Laura had been searching ever since.
“Why watch this house?”
“Because Kane started watching it first.”
She showed us photographs.
Robert sitting in a parked SUV.
Robert following Grandpa to a grocery store.
Robert photographing his backyard.
The images dated back nearly four years.
Before Robert met my mother.
My chest tightened.
“So this was planned from the beginning.”
Laura nodded.
“Probably.”
Grandpa looked at Mom.
She seemed physically ill.
Laura then placed a small envelope on the table.
“My father mailed this three weeks before he disappeared.”
Inside was a key.
Not a house key.
Not a car key.
Small.
Brass.
Number 317.
Grandpa recognized it.
“Train station locker.”
Laura nodded.
“Chicago.”
Detective Morgan said federal agents would handle it.
The locker was searched that night.
Inside was no ledger.
Only an old cassette recorder and a photograph.
The photograph showed Thomas Reed standing beside Samuel Beck.
On the back:
IF KANE FINDS FRANK, THE BOY IS THE LEVER.
My hands started shaking.
“The boy?”
Everyone looked at me.
Grandpa immediately shook his head.
“No.”
But the date on the photograph was three weeks after I was born.
I stared at Grandpa.
“Why would Thomas Reed know about me?”
No one answered.
Then Mom whispered something.
“Because Robert once said Ethan wasn't an accident.”
Silence.
I turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
She covered her mouth.
And for the second time that week, I realized my mother had been hiding something about my life long before Robert ever hit me.
