Chapter 3
I arrived at my parents’ house fourteen minutes later.
Not as a general.
As a daughter.
Federal investigators followed in another vehicle, but I asked them to stay near the road until I spoke to my father.
They agreed to five minutes.
Marcus stayed beside me.
My mother stood on the porch.
Her face was swollen from crying.
“Where is he?”
“Bedroom.”
“Why is he packing?”
She looked away.
“Rachel…”
“No more.”
She flinched.
“No more half-truths.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“That sentence has protected everyone except me for eighteen years.”
Her shoulders collapsed.
“He wanted to leave before the investigators came.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“Your father and Thomas fought the night Thomas died.”
My chest tightened.
“About what?”
“I never knew.”
“Did Dad see him that night?”
“Yes.”
That was new.
My father had always said Thomas left work and never came home.
“Where?”
“At the old storage building off Route 18.”
The same road as the communications site.
I stared at her.
“You lied at the funeral.”
She started crying again.
“We were terrified.”
“Of who?”
Before she answered, my father appeared in the doorway.
A suitcase hung from his hand.
“Me.”
I looked at him.
“You were terrified of yourself?”
“No.”
He set the suitcase down.
“Of what I had done.”
Marcus shifted beside me.
My father looked at him.
“This is family.”
Marcus did not move.
“He stays.”
Dad studied my face, then nodded.
We went inside.
The house smelled like coffee and barbecue smoke.
Family pictures lined the hallway.
Thomas smiled from one frame at seventeen years old, one arm around my shoulders.
I almost couldn’t look at him.
My father sat in his recliner.
I remained standing.
“Start at the beginning.”
Dad rubbed both hands together.
“Thomas came to me three weeks before the accident.”
“What did he say?”
“That someone at work was stealing information.”
“Did he name Rebecca?”
“No.”
“Did he suspect her?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Why come to you?”
“Because he was scared.”
My brother had never seemed scared of anything.
Hearing that hurt.
“He said if anything happened, I needed to make sure you stayed away from it.”
“Me?”
“You were at West Point.”
I swallowed.
“He worried you would try to investigate.”
He knew me.
Even then.
Dad continued.
“The night he died, he called me. Said he had proof.”
“What proof?”
“A data cartridge.”
My breathing slowed.
“He had taken it from the site?”
“He said it was a backup showing who accessed the network and when.”
“Where did you meet?”
“The old storage building.”
“And?”
Dad’s eyes filled.
“When I got there, Thomas was furious.”
“At you?”
“At Rebecca.”
My entire body went still.
“She was there?”
“Yes.”
Marcus inhaled quietly.
Dad looked toward the window.
“Rebecca had been moving equipment records. Thomas believed she was helping someone copy access credentials.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
Of course.
“She had debt?”
“More than we knew. Your uncle had gambling problems.”
Aunt Rebecca’s husband had died ten years ago.
Nobody had ever mentioned gambling.
“What happened that night?”
“Thomas told her he was going to federal investigators.”
“And she threatened him?”
Dad shook his head.
“She begged.”
That surprised me.
“She said she had only moved paperwork. She swore she didn’t know the information would be used for anything dangerous.”
“Did Thomas believe her?”
“No.”
Dad’s voice cracked.
“They started shouting. I tried to calm them down.”
“What happened to the cartridge?”
Silence.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“I took it.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
“Why?”
“To keep Thomas from destroying Rebecca.”
I stared at him.
“You stole evidence from your own son?”
“I thought I was protecting my sister.”
“You protected the person he suspected.”
“I didn’t understand.”
“You didn’t want to understand.”
His eyes filled.
“You’re right.”
I turned away.
My hands shook.
“What happened after you took it?”
“Thomas chased me outside.”
“Then?”
“He got into his truck.”
“And drove away?”
“Yes.”
“Was he angry?”
“Yes.”
“Was he drinking?”
“No.”
That contradicted another family story.
We had always been told Thomas might have been drinking after an argument.
“You let people believe he was drunk.”
Dad lowered his head.
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because the investigator started asking about the cartridge. I panicked.”
“So you lied.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you put it?”
“In my workshop.”
My head snapped toward him.
“You still have it?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
Dad looked toward the doorway.
My mother covered her mouth.
He whispered,
“Rebecca took it.”
“When?”
“Two days after the funeral.”
I stared at him.
“You watched her take evidence tied to Thomas’s death?”
“She said she needed to destroy it.”
“And you let her?”
“I was broken, Rachel.”
“So was I.”
My voice cracked.
“I was twenty-two. I buried my brother believing he died because he drove too fast after drinking.”
Dad began crying.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I forced myself to breathe.
“What happened to the cartridge?”
“Rebecca said she destroyed it.”
“Did you believe her?”
“For years.”
“And now?”
Dad looked toward the road.
“Three weeks ago, she came here asking about the old reserve site.”
My chest tightened.
“What did she ask?”
“Whether the storage archive was still maintained.”
“How would you know?”
“I worked county maintenance for years. I used to service electrical systems near there.”
“Did you tell her?”
“I said I thought the old archives were being cleared out this summer.”
Everything clicked.
Rebecca had believed evidence from eighteen years ago might finally be destroyed or discovered during cleanup.
“So she went back today.”
Dad nodded.
“To find what?”
“I think she never destroyed Thomas’s cartridge.”
I stared at him.
“She hid it at the site?”
“Maybe.”
A knock sounded at the front door.
Federal investigators.
Dad looked at me.
“Rachel, I’m sorry.”
I shook my head.
“Sorry comes after truth.”
Then another voice came from the hallway.
My grandmother.
“No.”
We turned.
Grandma Evelyn stood there holding an old metal cash box.
Her hands trembled.
“Rebecca didn’t hide Thomas’s cartridge at the site.”
May you like
She placed the box on the table.
“I did.”
