Chapter 6 - What Abigail Hid)
Abigail opened the smallest pocket of her backpack and removed a purple plastic pencil case.
She emptied its contents onto Naomi’s dining table: two erasers, a short ruler, a friendship bracelet, four crayons, and a black flash drive no longer than Alison’s thumb.
“It was beside Gregory’s phone,” Abigail said. “When he opened the bedroom door, I thought he was going to take my backpack. I put this in my headband first, then moved it after we got to school.”
Detective Vega slipped on gloves. “Did he see you take it?”
“I don’t know. He looked at the papers, then at me. He asked if I had touched anything. I said no.”
The video Gregory sent suggested he knew something was missing, but perhaps not what. That uncertainty had kept him from confronting Abigail directly on the bus. It also meant the drive could contain evidence important enough to frighten him.
Vega placed it in an evidence bag. “No one plugs this into a personal computer. It could contain malicious software or location tracking. Our digital unit will examine it.”
Alison hated surrendering the first real leverage they had, but she understood. Gregory had predicted too many of their movements already.
Vega then studied the video on Alison’s phone. It had been sent from a disposable number, stripped of location data. In the background, behind Gregory, a tiny red light shone between two ceiling joists.
The detective returned to the hidden room and found a wireless camera attached to the beam. Its memory card was gone, but the power cable led to a transmitter hidden near the furnace. Gregory had likely watched Alison discover the room in real time.
“He knew when we found the files,” Alison said.
“And he wanted you to know he had been here first,” Vega replied. “That message was not an attempt to recover the drive. It was pressure. He wants you afraid enough to contact him.”
“He will not have to wait.”
Naomi understood immediately. “You want to call him.”
“If the drive matters, he may reveal something trying to get it back.”
Vega considered the risk, then arranged for the call to be recorded. Alison sat at her kitchen table while Abigail waited upstairs with Darnell and another officer. Naomi placed the blank purchase agreement in front of Alison so she could refer to it accurately.
Gregory answered on the first ring.
“You found your father’s room.”
“You already knew about it.”
“Thomas showed it to me.”
“My father hated you.”
“Your father distrusted everyone who understood what he owned. He thought suspicion made him strong. It only made him lonely.”
Alison looked through the kitchen doorway at the framed photograph of Thomas holding newborn Abigail. “Why did you send the video?”
“Because I want us to stop pretending this is a misunderstanding. You have something of mine. I have several things of yours. We can exchange them.”
“My passport and deed for a flash drive?”
Silence.
She had guessed correctly.
“Where is Abigail?” he asked.
“Safe.”
“She stole confidential business material. Victor is less forgiving than I am.”
The use of his father’s name was another admission.
“Are you threatening an eight-year-old?”
“I am telling you I cannot protect her if you give the wrong people access to that drive.”
Vega wrote KEEP HIM TALKING on a notepad.
Alison said, “Protect her from your father?”
Gregory laughed quietly. “You think you solved everything because Thomas labeled an old photograph. My father did not begin this, Alison. Neither did I. Your family has been selling the same lie for more than a hundred years.”
“What lie?”
“Ask Naomi why the access covenant survived when the warehouse burned. Ask why three owners signed away their rights in 1974 and your grandfather’s signature is missing. Better yet, ask what Michael found six weeks before he died.”
Alison stopped breathing.
Michael had died when a truck crossed the center line on an icy highway. Police called it a tragic collision. There had never been any connection to her father’s property.
“Do not say his name.”
“You never wondered why he drove to Madison that day?”
“He had a client meeting.”
“There was no client.”
Vega signaled Alison not to react, but grief was not something she could set aside like a prop.
“You know nothing about my husband.”
“I know he carried a copy of the covenant in his briefcase. I know the briefcase was not recovered from his car. And I know Thomas started building that hidden room one month later.”
Alison ended the call before Gregory could hear the memory breaking open inside her.
Michael had told her the Madison meeting might change their future. She had assumed he meant a job offer. After the crash, the police returned his wallet and wedding ring, but not the brown leather briefcase he always carried. Alison had accepted that it burned.
Had Gregory researched the accident and woven real details into a lie, or had Michael been involved before anyone knew Gregory’s name?
Vega refused to speculate. “He introduced a personal shock the moment you gained leverage. That is a control tactic. We verify before we believe.”
At three fifteen in the morning, the digital unit called.
The flash drive contained no malware. It held spreadsheets listing forty-one properties acquired through twelve companies, scans of false liens, copies of passports, and audio files labeled with dates. One spreadsheet tracked payments to a city inspector, a private title officer, and someone identified only as C.M.
The newest folder was named MERCER.
Inside were surveillance photographs of Alison and Abigail taken over eleven months. School pickups. Grocery trips. Church. The cemetery where they visited Michael.
The final image showed Abigail sleeping in her bedroom, photographed through the half-open door.
May you like
Its timestamp was from the previous night.
Someone had been inside the house while Alison slept.
