Chapter 6 - The Missing Ledger)
Walter disappeared the following morning.
Not literally.
His truck remained at the orchard.
His coat hung near the back door.
His coffee sat cold on the kitchen counter.
But nobody could find him.
Margaret learned this from Walter’s foreman, Luis Mendoza, who called at seven thirty.
“Mrs. Hale, was Walter coming to see you?”
“No.”
“He’s not here.”
“Did you check the barns?”
“All of them.”
“His bedroom?”
“Yes.”
“Phone?”
“On the kitchen table.”
Margaret looked toward the hallway.
Ethan had left before dawn.
“Luis, check the tractor shed.”
“For Walter?”
“For the ledger.”
Ten minutes later Luis called back.
The tool cabinet had been forced open.
The ledger was gone.
Margaret’s hands began to shake.
“Call the sheriff.”
“I already did.”
“Did Ethan come by?”
Luis hesitated.
One second too long.
“His truck was here around five.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Tell them.”
“I will.”
Vanessa entered the kitchen.
Margaret ended the call.
“Where is Walter?”
Vanessa opened the refrigerator.
“How would I know?”
“Ethan was at the orchard before dawn.”
“You spying now?”
“Where is he?”
“Working.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to clean up your mess.”
Margaret stood with her walker.
“My mess?”
“You could have signed.”
“What?”
“You could have signed the stupid agreement and none of this would have happened.”
Margaret stared at her daughter in law.
“Where is Walter?”
Vanessa slammed the refrigerator.
“Maybe he realized marrying you was a bad idea.”
Margaret crossed the room as fast as her recovering hip allowed.
Vanessa stepped back.
Margaret stopped inches away.
“If your husband hurt that man, I will spend whatever years I have left making sure neither of you sleeps peacefully again.”
For the first time Vanessa looked uncertain.
Then she smiled.
“You can barely walk.”
Margaret’s voice dropped.
“I don’t need to walk to ruin you.”
Sheriff’s deputies arrived at Walter’s orchard before eight.
They found no sign of violence.
No blood.
No broken furniture.
No Walter.
The missing ledger became evidence of possible financial crime, but Ethan claimed Walter had asked him to pick up documents for the accountant.
Margaret knew because Ethan told her when he returned at ten.
“The sheriff talked to me.”
“Good.”
“You gave Luis ideas.”
“Luis has eyes.”
“Walter probably went somewhere.”
“Without his phone?”
“He’s seventy two.”
“That is age, not amnesia.”
Ethan poured coffee.
“You enjoy this.”
“What?”
“Seeing me in trouble.”
Margaret almost pitied him.
“You still think this is about you.”
“It always was.”
“No, Ethan. That is simply how you experience the world.”
He put the cup down.
“You want Walter found?”
“Yes.”
“Then help me.”
Margaret stared.
“Sign a statement confirming Hale Agricultural Holdings had authority to negotiate.”
“No.”
“It would calm the lender.”
“No.”
“It would buy time.”
“For you.”
“For Walter too.”
“How?”
“The developer won’t move against the orchard.”
“They can’t. They don’t own it.”
Ethan smiled faintly.
“Are you sure?”
Margaret felt a chill.
“What did Walter sign?”
Ethan said nothing.
Margaret moved closer.
“What did you make him sign?”
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
For one instant panic crossed his face.
Then he answered.
“Yes?”
He listened.
His eyes lifted to Margaret.
“When?”
Another pause.
“No. Don’t call anyone.”
Margaret watched.
“Where?”
He turned away.
“I’m coming.”
He ended the call.
“Who was that?”
“Nothing.”
“You looked like nothing just died.”
Ethan grabbed his jacket.
Margaret blocked the doorway with her walker.
He almost laughed.
“Move.”
“Where is Walter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who called?”
“Move.”
“No.”
He took the walker.
Margaret tightened her grip.
For a terrible second they stood connected by the metal frame.
Son and mother.
His strength against her damaged hip.
Then Ethan leaned close.
“You should have married him.”
Margaret stared.
“Why?”
“Because then at least you would have gotten something out of this.”
He released the walker and left.
Margaret immediately called Rebecca.
No answer.
She called Walter.
His phone rang in his empty kitchen.
She called Luis.
No answer.
Then an unknown number appeared.
Margaret answered.
Silence.
“Hello?”
Breathing.
Then Walter’s voice.
“Margaret.”
She nearly collapsed.
“Where are you?”
“I need you to listen.”
“You’re alive.”
“Barely comfortable, but yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Old cold storage building near the south orchard.”
“Why?”
“Ethan locked me in.”
Margaret shut her eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. He didn’t hit me.”
“I’m calling the sheriff.”
“Wait.”
“No.”
“Margaret.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t have the ledger.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“I replaced it.”
Her eyes opened.
“With what?”
“An old spray log. Same cover.”
Despite fear, Margaret almost laughed.
“Where is the real one?”
Walter breathed heavily.
“Somewhere Ethan will never look.”
“Where?”
“With the only person in Brookhaven he believes hates me more than he does.”
Margaret frowned.
Then understood.
“Your brother?”
Walter gave a weak laugh.
May you like
“Call Samuel Bennett.”
The line went dead.
