Chapter 11 - Walter Had Used The Alley Once Before
Walter agreed to meet Leah in Eric’s office.
Not happily.
He came because the old message changed something.
Leah stood when he entered.
“Did you send it?”
“No.”
“Did you ever tell Mia about that alley?”
“No.”
“Daniel?”
Walter looked at his son.
“I told him everything eventually.”
“About the alley?”
Daniel frowned.
“I knew Michael picked you up behind the school once.”
Leah stared.
“You knew?”
“When I was sixteen.”
Eric interrupted.
“Who else?”
Walter sat.
“Michael.”
“Dead,” Leah said.
“Yes.”
“Anyone living?”
Walter looked at Eric.
“Your predecessor.”
“Dead.”
“School secretary.”
“Retired to Arizona.”
Then Walter’s face changed.
Daniel saw it.
“Dad.”
Walter looked at him.
“There was one other person.”
Leah folded her arms.
“Who?”
Walter stared at the carpet.
“My wife.”
Daniel’s mother.
Leah’s guardian for the first year.
Dead nineteen years.
Leah laughed bitterly.
“This is becoming useful.”
Walter shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
“My wife wrote it down.”
Everyone stopped.
“Where?” Daniel asked.
“In a family calendar.”
Walter looked at Leah.
“She wrote that Michael had picked you up behind Hawthorne and that we needed a better plan.”
Leah’s face changed.
“Who has the calendar?”
Walter hesitated.
Daniel leaned forward.
“Dad.”
Walter looked at him.
“You do.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
“When your mother died, you took the boxes from her desk.”
“I never opened them.”
“I know.”
I stared at my husband.
Our basement held twelve boxes from Daniel’s mother.
Untouched.
He had moved them through three houses.
I had asked twice whether he wanted help sorting them.
He said no.
Leah looked at Daniel.
“Who has access to your basement?”
The question shifted the mystery home.
Daniel thought.
“Claire. Sophie. Cleaning service.”
“I don't go through your family boxes,” I said.
He nodded.
“Contractor last month.”
We had repaired a water line.
Two workers spent three days downstairs.
Leah shook her head.
“Random plumber finds a twenty-two-year-old calendar and texts my daughter?”
No.
Then I remembered.
“Your father.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Walter was at our house in April.”
His face changed.
I hadn't known.
Walter stared.
“I stayed outside.”
“You dropped the camera for Sophie.”
Walter nodded.
Daniel said:
“You said your driver left it.”
Walter looked away.
Another lie.
“Did you go downstairs?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Sophie’s voice came from the doorway.
“Grandpa's friend.”
Every adult turned.
She had arrived with a staff member from aftercare.
Daniel stood.
“What friend?”
Sophie frowned.
“The man who came with Grandpa.”
Walter’s face lost color.
“I came alone.”
Sophie shook her head.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“The man with the glasses. He waited by Dad's boxes.”
Walter stared.
I had never seen him frightened before.
“Describe him.”
Sophie did.
Tall.
Gray glasses.
Brown coat.
A limp.
Walter sat back.
Daniel said:
“Who is that?”
Walter looked at Leah.
She had gone completely still.
Her voice came out barely audible.
“Michael’s brother.”
Daniel frowned.
Leah looked at him.
“Uncle Peter.”
I had never heard the name.
May you like
Walter had.
And judging by his face, Peter Monroe had not disappeared from this family as completely as everyone believed.
