The call originated from a prepaid phone.
Agent Chen told me that within twenty minutes.
The device had connected to a tower forty miles west of Pittsburgh and disappeared from the network immediately afterward.
"Can you find him?"
"If he uses it again."
"And if he doesn't?"
"We work other angles."
I hated waiting.
Alvarez seemed built for it.
She photographed every item in Box 614, arranged formal seizure receipts, and contacted federal prosecutors before we left the bank.
By noon, Gregory Sullivan's name was moving through databases that had not existed when Dad died.
At one thirty, Chen found him.
Not directly.
A Social Security number associated with Gregory had gone dormant thirteen years earlier.
Thomas Vale's had not.
The false identity had purchased property in West Virginia nine years ago.
"He's been living under the alias the whole time," I said.
"Looks that way."
"Then arrest him."
"For what?"
"Fraud."
"Identity fraud may give us leverage. But if we move too quickly, we may lose information about your father's death."
Again, patience.
Again, I hated it.
Ernest looked worse by the hour.
His heart medication remained in his pocket, but he had taken it twice since morning. Daniel urged him to return home.
He refused.
"Samuel waited thirteen years," he said. "I can manage another afternoon."
At three seventeen, my phone rang.
Same unknown number.
Alvarez had already arranged recording equipment.
I answered.
"Gregory."
"You have agents with you."
"Yes."
A long pause.
"Then I can't talk."
"You called me."
"I made a mistake."
"You made one thirteen years ago."
Silence.
"Did you touch Dad's brakes?"
His breathing became audible.
"I didn't cut them."
The distinction chilled me.
"What did you do?"
"I can't say over the phone."
"Then meet me."
Alvarez shook her head.
I ignored her.
Gregory laughed softly.
"You really are Sam's kid."
"People keep telling me that."
"He wouldn't leave things alone either."
"He died because of it."
Another silence.
Then Gregory said, "Old mill outside Fairmont. Tomorrow. Noon."
Alvarez mouthed no.
"Fine."
"Alone."
"No."
"Then forget it."
"Gregory—"
"Alone, Valerie."
The line disconnected.
Alvarez stared at me.
"You're not going alone."
"I know."
"Good."
"I'm going while you pretend I'm alone."
She almost smiled.
Almost.
"Now you sound like an investigator."
"I'd rather sound like my father."
Her expression softened.
"Your father got killed."
That silenced me.
We spent the night at a secured hotel.
Mom remained in the room adjoining mine. Ernest stayed two floors below with Daniel and Thomas.
At ten, someone knocked.
Mom opened the connecting door instead.
"You should eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Neither was Samuel when he got like this."
I looked at her.
"Don't."
"What?"
"Use Dad to manage me."
Pain crossed her face.
"That wasn't what I was doing."
"Maybe not."
She sat in the chair by the window.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked, "Did Dad know about Michael Reeves?"
She looked startled.
"No."
"Obviously. Dad was dead."
I rubbed my forehead.
"I mean, was Michael connected to anyone from Dad's company?"
"No."
"Why did you look at Ernest when I asked?"
Mom hesitated.
"Because Ernest had Michael investigated."
I stared.
Ernest again.
"When?"
"Years ago."
"Why?"
"He was still keeping informed about us."
"You said he stayed away."
"He did physically."
I closed my eyes.
"So he investigated the man you had children with."
"Apparently."
"Did you know?"
"Not until later."
"Did Michael?"
"I don't know."
The secrets never ended.
"What happened to him?"
"Car accident."
I looked at her sharply.
"Don't."
"What?"
"Don't tell me another man in your life died in a car accident."
"It was unrelated."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"He was hit by a drunk driver in Ohio. The driver survived and went to prison."
At least one death in our family apparently had an ordinary explanation.
I slept badly.
The next morning Alvarez fitted me with a concealed transmitter.
"You stay where we can see you."
"Gregory said alone."
"He'll see what we want him to see."
The old mill stood beside a river outside Fairmont, its broken windows staring across weeds and rusted machinery.
I arrived in an unmarked car.
Agents were positioned beyond the tree line and inside a neighboring structure.
I walked alone.
At 12:06, a man emerged from the mill.
He was nearly seventy now.
Thin.
Gray beard.
Baseball cap.
But I recognized the younger face from the Thomas Vale license.
"Gregory."
He stopped fifteen feet away.
"You brought them."
"I came alone."
"Don't lie."
"Then don't ask impossible things."
His mouth twitched.
"Sam would've liked that."
"Stop talking about him like you were friends."
"We were."
"Friends don't crawl under each other's trucks."
He looked toward the river.
"I wasn't under it to hurt him."
"What were you doing?"
"Looking."
"For what?"
"What Richard told me he'd done."
My heart pounded.
"What had Richard done?"
Gregory rubbed both hands over his face.
"He called me that afternoon."
"November fourteenth."
"Yeah."
"He said Sam had lost his mind. Said Sam was going to accuse everyone and destroy the company."
"What did he want from you?"
"Follow him."
"Why you?"
"I worked for Ridgeway. Sam knew my face but didn't know I was helping Richard."
"He did know."
Gregory looked at me.
"The recording says Dad saw you under his truck."
His eyes widened.
"You have that?"
"Yes."
He looked suddenly frightened.
"What else do you have?"
"Enough."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I want to know whether you killed him."
"I didn't."
"Did you touch the brakes?"
"I checked the line."
"Why?"
"Richard told me he'd loosened a fitting."
The world seemed to stop.
"Richard personally?"
"That's what he said."
"Why would he tell you?"
"Because he wanted me to make sure it would leak slowly."
I couldn't speak.
Gregory continued.
"He said Sam wasn't supposed to die."
"What does that mean?"
"He wanted the brakes soft enough to scare him."
"On a mountain road?"
"I told him he was crazy."
"Yet you went under the truck."
"To tighten it."
I stared.
"You expect me to believe you were saving him."
"I don't care what you believe."
"Did you tighten it?"
Gregory's face changed.
"No."
"Why?"
"Sam came out."
"He saw you."
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
"I told him there was a leak."
"Did you tell him Richard caused it?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I was scared."
"So Dad drove away knowing something was wrong?"
"He didn't."
"What?"
"I told him it looked fine."
My anger became almost physical.
"You let him drive."
"I thought the fitting would hold."
"But you just said Richard loosened it."
"I tightened it with my fingers."
"Your fingers?"
"I didn't have the right wrench."
I stepped closer.
"You let my father take a mountain road with a brake fitting you'd tightened by hand."
Gregory's eyes filled.
"Yes."
I wanted to hit him.
Instead, I asked, "What happened next?"
"He left."
"For the weigh station."
"Yeah."
"Did you follow?"
"At first."
"Why?"
"Richard told me to."
"Where was Richard?"
"At the station."
"With Frank?"
Gregory nodded.
"And my mother."
"I didn't know she was coming."
"What was the plan?"
"Get Sam there. Make him hand over the originals."
"And if he refused?"
Gregory looked away.
"What?"
"Frank had a gun."
My stomach turned.
"Was Richard planning to kill him?"
"I don't know."
"That's not good enough."
"I swear."
Gregory's voice rose.
"Richard talked tough. Frank talked worse. But killing Sam wasn't supposed to be part of it."
"Yet someone sabotaged his brakes."
"Richard said he only wanted him frightened."
"And you believed that?"
"I was thirty-four and stupid."
"That's your defense?"
"No."
His voice collapsed.
"It's my confession."
I looked toward the mill.
"Why did you disappear?"
"Because Richard paid me."
"The hundred thousand."
Gregory stared.
"You found that too."
"Yes."
"He told me to leave."
"Why?"
"Because I knew about the brake line."
"So the money bought your silence."
"Yes."
"Why call me now?"
His eyes lifted.
"Because Richard called me last week."
"What did he want?"
"To know whether I still had the wrench."
I froze.
"What wrench?"
"The one he used."
"But you said you didn't have the right wrench."
"I didn't."
"Richard did."
Gregory swallowed.
"He showed it to me before Sam left."
"Why?"
"He was drunk. Angry. Proud of himself."
"What happened to it?"
"I took it."
"Why?"
"Insurance."
My heart hammered.
"Where is it?"
Gregory glanced toward the mill.
"In there."
I heard Alvarez's voice faintly through my earpiece.
Do not enter.
Gregory started walking.
I stayed where I was.
"Bring it out."
He stopped.
"You really did bring them."
"Yes."
He laughed bitterly.
"Good."
Then a crack split the air.
Gregory jerked.
For a second, I didn't understand.
Then blood appeared on his shoulder.
"Down!" Alvarez shouted through my earpiece.
I dropped.
Agents rushed from cover.
A second shot struck metal behind Gregory.
He collapsed beside a concrete barrier.
Alvarez reached me while Chen and two agents moved toward the tree line.
"Stay down."
"Gregory!"
"He's alive."
Paramedics who had been staged nearby rushed in.
Gregory grabbed my wrist as they rolled him.
"The wrench," he gasped.
"Where?"
"Locker."
"What locker?"
"Mill office."
"Number?"
"Thirty-two."
His grip weakened.
Then he whispered something else.
"Richard wasn't alone at the truck."
I leaned closer.
"What?"
"There was a woman."
My blood chilled.
"Who?"
His eyes rolled toward me.
"I never saw her face."
The paramedics pulled me back.
Agents searched the mill.
Locker 32 contained an old toolbox.
Inside, wrapped in oily cloth, was an adjustable wrench.
And a photograph.
Dad's truck.
Taken the afternoon he died.
A man was crouched beside the front wheel.
Richard.
But at the edge of the frame stood another person.
A woman.
Only half her body was visible.
Her face was outside the picture.
Around her wrist was a silver bracelet.
I knew that bracelet.
I had seen it hundreds of times in childhood photographs.
It had belonged to my mother.
Click Here to continue read next: PART11: The Bracelet in Gregory’s Photograph Pointed Straight at My Mother, Until One Forgotten Family Picture Revealed Who Had Actually Been Wearing It
The Morning My Mother Asked Me to Save Our Family by Marrying a Stranger Old Enough to Be My Grandfather
Part 10 of 16
