Chapter 4 - The Second Key
I had carried my mother's brass key on a chain for seventeen years.
Richard told me it opened a jewelry box that no longer existed.
I had never believed him completely.
The key had a small triangular notch near the handle, an odd feature for jewelry hardware.
When I laid it beside the maintenance drawing, the outline looked painfully familiar.
Vance arranged for a lawful search of the annex based on the evidence already collected.
I was not allowed to turn grief into my own search warrant.
I appreciated that more than he knew.
We drove after dark with a small team and no flashing lights.
The annex stood behind a line of neglected pines.
Its windows were boarded, but fresh tire tracks cut through the mud behind the building.
“Someone has been here,” I said.
Inside, dust covered the reception counter.
The basement door had been painted over repeatedly.
Under the newest gray coat, a rectangle of blue showed through.
The search team opened the door.
In the basement we found metal filing cabinets, a disconnected telephone, and a wall with newer plaster than anything around it.
An investigator scanned the wall and located a cavity.
The cavity contained a fireproof lockbox.
My key opened the outer lock.
The inner lock had already been broken.
The box was empty except for a photograph and an envelope.
The photograph showed my mother smiling beside Captain Ana Ruiz's father, whom I recognized from her background file.
The envelope was addressed to me in an unsteady hand.
CLAIRE, IF YOU READ THIS, THEY FAILED TO ERASE EVERYTHING.
Inside was half a page of figures and a short warning.
DO NOT TRUST THE MAN WHO CALLS HIMSELF YOUR FATHER.
Richard had never been my biological father.
That was not the disturbing part.
The disturbing part was the next line.
HE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FATHER, AND THE STORY HE TOLD YOU IS FALSE.
I had been told my biological father died before I was born.
I stared at the message until the letters blurred.
Vance did not reach for it.
He let me have the moment.
Then a radio crackled.
“Movement outside, north fence.”
A shadow crossed one boarded window.
The team secured the building while Vance guided me toward the stairwell.
We heard a vehicle pull away before anyone reached the perimeter.
No confrontation.
No answers.
Just a dropped glove in the mud and an empty lockbox that someone had reached before us.
On the glove's cuff was a tiny stitched emblem.
May you like
Halcyon Response Systems.
