Chapter 5 - STORAGE UNIT 317The storage facility sat beneath an elevated train line on Chicago’s industrial west side.
In none of those imagined reunions did Arthur arrive holding the hands of Daniel’s children.
The prison visitation room smelled of disinfectant, old coffee, and hopelessness.
Arthur entered first.
Ethan followed.
Lily held tightly to Arthur’s fingers.
When Daniel appeared behind the reinforced glass, he stopped walking.
Twenty-two years had changed him.
His dark hair had turned mostly gray.
His shoulders were broader.
His face carried lines Arthur did not remember.
But his eyes were the same.
Arthur saw Ethan in them immediately.
Daniel looked first at his children.
Then at Arthur.
He sat slowly.
Arthur picked up the phone.
Daniel did not.
For several seconds, father and son simply stared at one another through scratched glass.
Finally Daniel lifted the receiver.
“Why are my kids with you?”
Not hello.
Not Dad.
Arthur deserved that.
“They found me.”
Daniel’s eyes moved toward Ethan.
“You were supposed to stay at the house.”
Ethan stepped closer to the glass.
“Mrs. Keene locked me downstairs again.”
Daniel’s expression changed instantly.
“She what?”
“And men came asking about Mom’s papers.”
Daniel gripped the receiver.
“What men?”
“One wore a black ring.”
Daniel’s face turned gray.
Arthur watched him.
“You know who that is.”
Daniel looked toward his father.
“Martin.”
“Yes.”
“How did he find them?”
“That’s what I’m trying to discover.”
Daniel laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You?”
Arthur accepted the blow.
“I opened your letter.”
Daniel’s expression went completely still.
“Which one?”
“The last one.”
“The one I sent nineteen years ago?”
“Yes.”
“And suddenly you’re interested?”
Arthur lowered his gaze.
“I have no defense.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I should have read every letter.”
“You should have believed your son.”
“Yes.”
Daniel seemed almost disturbed by the answer.
Arthur continued.
“I was wrong.”
Daniel’s eyes hardened.
“You had twenty-two years to figure that out.”
“I know.”
“You visited once.”
Arthur remembered.
The first week after sentencing.
He had gone to prison not to comfort Daniel but to demand that he confess.
Daniel had refused.
Arthur never returned.
“I know.”
Daniel looked at Ethan and Lily.
“Where’s Rebecca?”
Arthur’s throat tightened.
Ethan answered.
“Mom died, Dad.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Arthur watched grief cross his son’s face.
“You knew?” Arthur asked.
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Six months ago.”
“You weren’t allowed to attend the funeral?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Who would have?”
Arthur had no answer.
Lily pressed her tiny palm against the glass.
Daniel immediately mirrored it with his own.
“Hi, bug.”
Lily began crying.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“When are you coming home?”
Daniel closed his eyes again.
“Soon, I hope.”
Arthur felt something break inside his chest.
His granddaughter had clearly learned to accept answers adults could not guarantee.
Arthur spoke.
“I’m reopening the case.”
Daniel’s eyes snapped toward him.
“Don’t.”
Arthur frowned.
“What?”
“Take the children somewhere safe and stop.”
“Martin threatened them.”
“That’s why you stop.”
“No.”
“Dad.”
It was the first time Daniel had called him that.
Arthur felt it like a hand around his heart.
Daniel leaned toward the glass.
“You think this is about three million dollars?”
“What is it about?”
Daniel looked toward the corrections officer, then lowered his voice.
“Bennett Logistics was used to move more than freight.”
Arthur stared.
“What are you talking about?”
“Back then, certain containers were rerouted without inspection.”
“What containers?”
“I never found out everything.”
“Drugs?”
“No.”
“Weapons?”
“Maybe.”
Arthur’s stomach tightened.
Daniel continued.
“I found shipping manifests that didn’t match actual inventory. Martin and Uncle Richard were using company routes.”
“For whom?”
“That’s why Owen Mercer disappeared.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“Owen contacted me today.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
“What?”
“He’s alive.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel looked around the visitation room.
For the first time, Arthur saw fear in his son’s face.
“You need to leave.”
“Why?”
“If Owen broke cover, they’ll assume he contacted you.”
“They?”
Daniel whispered, “Nathan Caldwell.”
Arthur felt cold.
“He’s alive.”
Daniel stared.
“How do you know?”
“I saw him this morning.”
Daniel stood so abruptly the officer moved toward him.
“No.”
“Daniel—”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“Caldwell wasn’t just the prosecutor.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“He controlled the whole arrangement.”
Arthur’s grip tightened around the receiver.
“Why?”
“Money. Political influence. I don’t know all of it.”
“Then why fake his death?”
“Because someone started investigating him four years ago.”
Arthur thought quickly.
“What happened four years ago?”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“My wife started looking into my case.”
Rebecca.
The children’s mother.
Arthur looked toward Ethan.
Ethan had gone silent.
Daniel continued.
“Rebecca found a retired court clerk who remembered documents disappearing from my file.”
“What happened?”
“The clerk died.”
Arthur stared.
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“And Rebecca?”
“She wouldn’t stop.”
Arthur’s throat tightened.
“How did she die?”
Daniel did not answer.
Ethan did.
“They said Mom fell down the stairs.”
Arthur slowly turned toward him.
Daniel’s face filled with pain.
“She didn’t fall.”
Lily started crying again.
Arthur’s chest turned to ice.
“What makes you so sure?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“The day before she died, Rebecca called me.”
Arthur waited.
“She said she had proof.”
“What proof?”
“She found a storage key hidden inside one of my old college books.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“What storage?”
“I don’t know.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“She was scared the calls were recorded.”
Daniel looked at Ethan.
“Your mother ever give you a key?”
Ethan shook his head.
Then he stopped.
His hand slowly moved toward the faded photograph.
Arthur noticed.
“What?”
Ethan pulled the photograph from his pocket.
“There’s something inside the cardboard.”
Daniel pressed closer to the glass.
“What cardboard?”
“My photo.”
Ethan bent the old picture slightly.
Arthur saw that the backing had separated along one corner.
Margaret had assumed age caused the damage.
Ethan carefully peeled it open.
A tiny brass key slid onto the floor.
Arthur stared.
Stamped into the metal were two numbers.
317.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Your mother did it.”
Arthur picked up the key.
“Did what?”
“Found the evidence.”
Arthur looked at his son.
“I’m going to get you out.”
Daniel’s expression softened for half a second.
Then hardened again.
“Get my children safe first.”
Arthur nodded.
“I promise.”
As they left the prison, Ethan remained quiet.
They were twenty feet from Arthur’s car when his driver suddenly shouted.
“Mr. Bennett!”
Arthur turned.
A dark sedan accelerated out of the parking lane.
Straight toward Lily.
Arthur grabbed her coat and threw himself sideways.
The sedan missed them by inches.
It slammed through a parking barrier and sped toward the exit.
Ethan screamed.
Arthur held Lily against his chest.
His driver pulled a handgun from beneath his jacket and ran forward.
But the car disappeared.
Arthur looked down at his granddaughter.
She was shaking but unharmed.
Then Ethan pointed toward the ground.
Something had been thrown from the sedan.
A white envelope.
Arthur opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Rebecca Bennett lying dead at the bottom of a staircase.
Across the image, someone had written:
STOP DIGGING OR THE NEXT PHOTO WILL BE ONE OF THE CHILDREN.
Arthur stared at it.
Twenty-two years of guilt disappeared beneath something hotter.
Rage.
He folded the threat and put it inside his coat.
Then he looked at Ethan.
“We’re not going home.”
“Where are we going?”
May you like
Arthur held up the brass key.
“To find out what your mother died protecting.”
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