put in the “Leslie file.” He kept the boxes at home in a fireproof container and had never let anyone see them, didn’t even let anyone know he had them.
Until Nate Taggert arrived in town. And right now, Frank hadn’t decided whether or not that was a good idea. Nate had left behind anger and resentment, and Terri was a ghost of her usual self.
Reluctantly, Frank got out of the bed, took a shower, then pulled on clean clothes from his duffel bag. It was about noon and he was ravenous.
* * *
When Frank stepped out into the hall, so much anger ran through him that he thought he might explode. There the two of them were, calmly sitting at the fancy glass table and eating pizza. Taggert had a beer and Kit’s kid had a glass of wine.
Frank felt rage come up from his toes to reach his hair. “You lazy bastards!” he yelled. “I came all this way to give you those files and look at you. Sitting there getting drunk. Did you two rich kids even open the boxes?”
As he spoke, he was stomping down the hallway. Neither of the young men moved or changed expression. They didn’t look the least guilty or ashamed of their laziness.
“I ought to—” Frank began, but then Rowan nodded toward the far wall.
Frank glanced to his right, then back at the two of them. “I nearly had a wreck getting here and—” He stopped, blinked a few times, then turned back.
The two couches had been shoved up against the wall of windows, and the upholstered chairs had been placed on top of them. The two solid walls were covered with papers pinned on them. Side tables had more papers piled high. Above the couches, photos were taped on the glass. Hand-lettered signs had been put up. Terri and the football boys. Leslie’s last days. Garden Day. The storm. Chain saw. Dock.
Slowly, Frank went to the first wall. A copy of Leslie’s driver’s license had forgery written on the bottom, and a note saying Leslie Brooks didn’t exist before she arrived in Summer Hill, Virginia. He knew a lot of it, but there were new details. What did the local florist shop have to do with anything? There were several headings that he knew nothing about. One was “Cabin twenty-six.”
There was a computer screenshot of an underwater chain saw. In the background was a reflection of the Kissel clubhouse. Frank put his hand on it and turned to look at Nate and Rowan. “I’m not sure but I bet this is the one my brother accused me of borrowing and losing. He kept the box as a reminder of something that I didn’t do.”
Nate swallowed his mouthful of pizza. “I found the empty box when I cleaned out the motor shed. I think that saw might have been used on the posts of the old dock. When I was down there, they didn’t look broken but cut.”
Frank had been working on this for over twenty years and he’d never been able to get anyone interested in what he thought. For a moment, he was so overcome with emotion that he felt tears welling up. He got himself under control. “Get up and tell me everything. Don’t leave out a word. Taggert! Get me a beer.”
It took over an hour for Nate and Rowan to explain what they’d discovered. Nate had called a man at the lake and he’d taken a few underwater photos, including the one showing the chain saw. He’d said it was too deep and too murky around the old dock to see clearly, but yes, it was possible that Nate had seen the roof of a car. To be sure, they’d need divers with scuba gear.
Frank listened as he finished the last of the pizza and said, “But it’s nothing, is it? Just unrelated facts.”
Rowan and Nate looked at each other.
Nate answered. “We believe that everything that happened to Terri was caused by whatever was done to Leslie.”
Frank was so pleased by Nate’s phrasing that he almost smiled. “It all works together.”
Nate took a chair off the couch—Rowan had covered the white upholstery with sheets—and sat down. “I can’t go back until Terri’s name is cleared, so whatever it takes, I’m ready to do it. Maybe I can’t solve the mystery about her mother but I’d sure like to get my hands on that Thorndyke loser. My guess is that he did something rotten, then made Terri swear not