Chapter 8: The Last Secret of Rosewood
We escaped through the drainage tunnel seconds before Harris reached the cellar.
The passage was barely wide enough for my shoulders. Cold water ran beneath our feet, and the air smelled of wet earth and rust. I carried the flashlight in one hand and supported Martin with the other.
Maya followed close behind.
Carl brought up the rear.
Above us, doors slammed and men shouted. Once, I heard a heavy object crash against the cellar floor.
Then Harris's voice echoed through the pipes.
"Find the book! I want every page!""
I kept moving.
The tunnel opened into a concrete ditch behind the garden, half concealed by weeds. We climbed out into the rain and hurried toward my pickup truck.
Martin was losing blood.
His face had become almost colorless, and his breathing was shallow.
"We need a hospital," I said.
"Not until we get that ledger," he replied.
"You are not dying in the back of my truck because you're worried about paperwork.""
Martin managed a weak smile.
"You sound like your father.""
"I'll take that as an insult.""
"You should.""
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Then Maya tugged on my sleeve.
She pointed toward the road.
A pair of headlights appeared between the trees.
Carl swore.
"Harris found the tunnel exit.""
I helped Martin into the truck and climbed behind the wheel. Maya slid into the passenger seat. Carl jumped into the back.
I started the engine and pulled away just as the headlights turned into the driveway.
A black SUV surged after us.
The road curved through a stretch of woodland where the rain had washed gravel onto the asphalt. I drove carefully, keeping my speed low enough to avoid skidding.
Behind us, the SUV gained ground.
Carl leaned forward between the seats.
"Take the next left.""
"That road leads to the old quarry.""
"Exactly.""
I glanced at him in the mirror.
"Why?""
"Because the bridge is closed. Harris will have to take the longer route.""
I turned onto the narrow road.
The truck bounced over potholes, and Maya grabbed the dashboard to steady herself.
Martin groaned in the back.
I looked at him.
"Stay with us.""
He opened his eyes.
"Your father used to drive this road at night when he couldn't sleep.""
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
"Tell me about his death.""
Martin's expression changed.
"I told you he didn't die naturally.""
"Then tell me what happened.""
He looked toward Maya.
"Your father discovered that Victor had ordered another witness killed. He planned to give the evidence to a state investigator.""
"When?""
"Five years ago. Two weeks before he died.""
I remembered the night clearly.
My father had called me at midnight, asking me to come to the house. When I arrived, he was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of untouched coffee.
He'd looked older than I had ever seen him.
He told me he was proud of me.
Then he made me promise to take care of Rosewood.
Three days later, he suffered what the doctors called a sudden cardiac event.
I had never questioned it.
"You're saying Victor killed him?""
Martin nodded.
"Harris arranged the medication. Your father was given a drug that triggered the cardiac event. The death certificate was falsified.""
My hands went numb.
"Who administered it?""
Martin didn't answer.
I looked at him in the mirror.
"Who?""
His voice was barely audible.
"Rebecca.""
The truck drifted toward the center line.
I corrected the wheel sharply.
Maya grabbed my arm.
I pulled over beside the trees and slammed the brakes.
Carl struck the back of my seat.
"Daniel!""
I turned toward Martin.
"Say that again.""
Martin looked at me with exhausted eyes.
"Rebecca gave your father the medication.""
"No.""
"She was told it was a sedative. She believed he was having panic attacks and needed help sleeping.""
"Who told her?""
"Harris.""
I shook my head.
"She wouldn't.""
Martin closed his eyes.
"She has been manipulated by these people since she was seventeen. They used her guilt over Michael's death to control her. Every time she tried to confess, they threatened to expose her role in what happened at the bridge.""
I thought of Rebecca's phone call.
Her tears.
Her insistence that she had spent twenty years trying to make things right.
Maybe she'd been telling the truth.
Maybe she'd been lying.
I couldn't tell anymore.
Maya reached across the seat and took my hand.
Her fingers were warm despite the cold rain.
She signed slowly.
YOU CAN BE ANGRY LATER.
I stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, I laughed.
It was a short, broken sound.
"You know," I said, "you're becoming very good at telling adults what to do.""
She almost smiled.
Almost.
I started the truck again.
We reached the old quarry road without seeing the SUV. Carl directed me through a service gate and down a track that led to an abandoned maintenance building.
Inside, we found a dry corner, a first-aid kit, and an old landline telephone that still worked.
I called an ambulance for Martin and gave the dispatcher our location. Then I called Rebecca.
She answered immediately.
"Daniel?""
"Where are you?""
"At the state police station in Millbrook.""
I froze.
"You're with the state police?""
"Yes. I told them everything I know about Victor, Harris, and the bridge.""
"Did you tell them about Dad?""
Silence.
Then she said, "Yes.""
"Did you tell them you gave him the medication?""
Her breathing stopped.
"How did you find out?""
"Martin told me.""
Rebecca began to cry.
"I didn't know what it was. Harris said Dad was suffering from anxiety. He gave me a bottle and told me the doctor had prescribed it.""
"You never checked?""
"I was seventeen when Michael died. I was twenty-seven when Dad started getting sick. I was terrified of what would happen if I asked questions.""
"That's not an answer.""
"No," she whispered.
"It isn't.""
I closed my eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I was afraid you'd hate me.""
I looked at Maya.
She was sitting beside Martin, holding his hand while he waited for the ambulance.
"Rebecca, I don't know what I feel about you right now.""
"I understand.""
"But I need the truth.""
"I know.""
"Are you going to help us get the ledger?""
"Yes.""
"Then meet us at First County Bank. Bring the state police. Don't bring Harris.""
"I won't.""
"And Rebecca?""
"Yes?""
"If you lie to me again, we're finished.""
She didn't argue.
"I understand.""
I ended the call.
Carl sat on a wooden crate near the door, staring at his hands.
"You knew about the medication," I said.
He looked up.
"I suspected.""
"You suspected my father was murdered, and you said nothing?""
"I didn't know Rebecca had been involved until after your father died. By then, Harris had threatened my family again.""
"You keep using your family as an excuse.""
Carl's face tightened.
"Because you have no idea what it's like to watch someone you love become a target.""
I stared at him.
"I watched my father die.""
"I know.""
"And I spent five years believing it was a heart attack.""
"I know.""
"Then stop asking me to understand.""
Carl lowered his head.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Finally, he said, "There's something else you should know about the key.""
I turned.
"The two keys?""
He nodded.
"Your father made a copy after he realized Victor was searching for the original. He gave one to me and kept the other for you.""
"Why?""
"Because he wanted to make sure that if one of us disappeared, the evidence could still be recovered.""
I took both keys from my pocket.
"Which one opens the box?""
Carl pointed to the brass key marked seventeen.
"That one.""
"Then what's the other for?""
He looked away.
"I don't know.""
I studied his face.
He was lying.
Not well, but deliberately.
Before I could press him, the ambulance arrived.
Two paramedics treated Martin while I stood outside the maintenance building, watching the rain soften into a fine mist.
As they loaded him into the ambulance, he caught my wrist.
"Daniel.""
I leaned closer.
"Your father left a final message. Not on the tape. In the ledger.""
"What message?""
Martin's eyes moved toward Maya.
"There's a page at the back. A list of names. One of them has been crossed out.""
"Whose name?""
He swallowed.
"Yours.""
My blood turned cold.
"Why would my father put my name in a ledger of criminals?""
"Because he believed you were the only person who could expose the truth.""
He squeezed my wrist.
"Don't let Victor get that book.""
Then the paramedics closed the ambulance doors.
I stood in the rain until the vehicle disappeared.
Maya came to stand beside me.
She held the photograph of my father and the watch from the bridge.
She pointed at the watch.
Then she made a small circular movement with her fingers.
I frowned.
"What?""
She pointed to the scratched face.
Then to the photograph.
Then she held the watch up to the light.
I leaned closer.
There was a tiny seam beneath the dial.
I pressed it with my thumbnail.
The back panel popped open.
Inside, folded into a space barely wider than a fingernail, was a thin strip of paper.
I unfolded it carefully.
Five words were written in my father's handwriting.
*THE SECOND KEY IS WITH REBECCA.*
I looked at Maya.
Then I looked at the key Carl had given me.
It wasn't a copy of the bank key.
It was something else.
And if my father had hidden the second key with Rebecca, then the secret inside the safe deposit box could be far more dangerous than a ledger of stolen money.
I pulled out my phone and called my sister again.
She answered on the first ring.
"Daniel?""
"I found the message.""
"What message?""
"The one Dad hid inside the watch.""
Rebecca went silent.
I continued.
"It says the second key is with you.""
Her breathing became uneven.
"Where did you find the watch?""
"On the photograph. The one showing the bridge.""
She whispered something I couldn't understand.
"Rebecca, what does the second key open?""
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she answered.
"Not a bank box.""
"What, then?""
"The room beneath Rosewood.""
I stared at the phone.
"What room?""
"The room Dad built under the original kitchen. The one he sealed after Michael died.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Why?""
"Because that's where he hid the original evidence.""
I looked at Carl.
He had heard her.
His expression was one of pure horror.
Rebecca's voice trembled.
"Daniel, you need to listen to me. Whatever you do, don't open that room.""
"Why?""
"Because the last time someone opened it, a man disappeared.""
The call ended.
Maya stared at me.
Then she slowly raised her hands.
SHE MEANS MY DAD.
I couldn't answer.
Because suddenly I understood what my father had been trying to tell me all along.
Michael Alvarez hadn't simply died at the bridge.
Someone had taken something from him.
Something so dangerous that my father had buried it beneath the place where I spent my life serving breakfast.
And if Rebecca was telling the truth, the evidence we needed wasn't at a bank.
It was beneath Rosewood Diner.
Where Carl Bennett had been working every day.
Where Officer Harris had eaten breakfast every Tuesday.
And where Victor Sloane had recently purchased the neighboring property.
May you like
The truth had been under my feet for twenty years.
Now I had to decide whether I was brave enough to dig it up.
