Chapter 12 - The House Behind Arden Lake
They left Chicago before sunrise.
Nora.
Harold.
Marcus.
Detective Vasquez.
Two trust security officers.
Elaine was ordered to remain available to police.
She hated it.
Marcus drove separately with an officer.
The property stood behind a line of pine trees near Arden Lake.
A neglected cabin.
Gray siding.
Moss-covered roof.
The air smelled of wet leaves and cold water.
Marcus unlocked the door with an old brass key.
Inside, dust covered everything.
A couch.
Table.
Fireplace.
No personal photographs.
No signs of ordinary family life.
“Dad came here alone,” Marcus said.
“How often?” Vasquez asked.
“I don’t know.”
Nora walked toward the hallway.
Three bedrooms.
One bathroom.
A study.
Marcus opened a hidden panel beneath the desk.
Inside was a metal box.
Empty.
Marcus stared.
“No.”
“You said you kept it here,” Nora said.
“I did.”
“When did you last see it?”
“Six months ago.”
“Who knows about the property?”
“Me.”
Nora stared.
“Try again.”
Marcus looked away.
“My mother.”
Harold sighed.
“Of course.”
“And Kevin Shaw.”
Nora turned.
“The missing IT employee.”
“He helped me digitize some documents.”
“What documents?”
Marcus rubbed his face.
“Project Harbor records.”
Nora nearly shouted.
“You had them?”
“I didn’t understand them.”
“Where are the digital copies?”
“Encrypted drive.”
“Where?”
“Kevin had it.”
Detective Vasquez looked at her phone.
“We just got a hit.”
“On Kevin?”
“His credit card.”
Nora’s pulse jumped.
“Where?”
“A motel forty miles north.”
Police found Kevin alive.
Terrified.
He had checked in under a false name and paid cash, but made the mistake of using his card at a gas station.
By afternoon they sat inside a small county sheriff’s office.
Kevin looked toward the mirrored observation window.
“I want protection.”
Vasquez said, “Start talking.”
“I didn’t steal File 17.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did you find for Marcus?”
Kevin swallowed.
“A list of shell companies.”
“Connected to Harbor?”
“Yes.”
“Who controlled them?”
“I couldn’t identify the final owner.”
“Who came closest?”
Kevin looked at Nora.
“Your grandmother.”
Nora frowned.
“What?”
“Not because she owned them. Because someone built the structure to look like she did.”
“Someone framed her.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I found a certificate.”
Kevin reached into his jacket.
Vasquez tensed.
“It’s paper.”
He slowly removed a folded photocopy.
A Delaware corporate registration.
Company: HARBOR STRATEGIC SERVICES.
Original director:
THOMAS BENNETT.
Nora stared.
Her grandfather.
But the filing date was seven years after Thomas Bennett’s death.
The signature had been notarized.
“How?” Nora whispered.
Kevin shook his head.
“That’s what I was trying to figure out.”
Harold examined it.
“Who notarized this?”
Kevin pointed.
A name.
VICTOR J. HALE.
Nora looked up.
“Hale created companies using dead people.”
“Looks that way.”
“And moved money through them.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Kevin swallowed.
“I found one database.”
“What database?”
“Names. Birth dates. photographs.”
“Witnesses?”
“Some.”
“How many?”
“Hundreds.”
Nora felt sick.
“Where is it?”
Kevin’s eyes filled with fear.
“I deleted my copy.”
“Why?”
“Because someone sent me a photograph of my daughter walking into school.”
Everyone went silent.
“They knew her schedule. Her teacher. Her classroom.”
Nora understood fear then.
Not abstractly.
Not morally.
Practically.
She thought of her own students.
Children who trusted adults to keep the world outside their classroom door.
She could not condemn Kevin easily.
“Who sent it?”
“Unknown number.”
“What did the message say?”
Kevin looked at her.
“Ask Rachel Bennett why she stopped asking questions.”
Nora went cold.
“My mother is dead.”
Kevin nodded.
“That’s why I ran.”
Vasquez leaned forward.
“What did you do before running?”
“I sent one copy.”
“To whom?”
Kevin looked at Nora.
“Eleanor Bennett.”
Harold frowned.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
Nora whispered, “Grandma had the database.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Kevin shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Nora thought of the hidden room.
The archive.
File 17.
Then something clicked.
“Grandma knew File 17 would be stolen.”
Harold looked at her.
“What?”
“The decoy will tested Elaine.”
“Yes.”
“What if File 17 was another test?”
Harold stared.
Nora continued.
“What if the file they stole wasn’t the real evidence?”
Marcus looked up.
“Then where is it?”
Nora reached into her purse.
The brass key.
Eleanor’s words returned.
If Harold tells you the time has come, you’ll know.
The key had opened the hidden room.
But what if that was not its only purpose?
She examined the engraving.
A circle.
The letter B.
Then she remembered seeing the same symbol somewhere else.
At school.
No.
Not school.
Eleanor’s funeral.
The man from Boston had placed a small wooden box beside Eleanor’s coffin.
The same symbol had been carved into it.
Nora turned to Harold.
“Who was the man who flew in from Boston?”
Harold’s face changed.
“What man?”
“At Grandma’s funeral. He cried beside the coffin.”
Harold stared at her.
Nora’s voice dropped.
“You know exactly who I mean.”
Harold looked toward Detective Vasquez.
Then said something Nora had never expected.
“We need to go back to Chicago.”
May you like
“Why?”
“Because that man was supposed to be dead.”
