We went through that house so many times.
Robert’s men went through it first. That was a huge red flag. That’s how I knew the messy story in front of me wasn’t only messy. It was intricate, it had many players, and many pieces were missing.
Major Wilson and Robert Walker were best friends. They graduated from the Military Academy together. They spent time together at West Point. They bonded.
What happened? What the hell happened?
I suck in a long breath and try to focus on something else. Francisco?
What does he have to do with anything? Thoughts start spinning in my head as I try to come up with an explanation.
So…
There is something out there.
They didn’t find it.
They thought the story was dead, and then Raven popped up.
They got jittery and thought they’d missed something. He had. My father.
And now that someone else lives in the house, that stupid thing could surface. By accident. By chance. That’s how it usually happens.
A much needed renovation, and cleaning up some old stuff in the attic can pull out a little more than a bunch of rags.
The man went to such great length to cover his tracks. He even messed with my security system.
They don’t care that they serve me all these clues, and I know what they’re doing.
They’re not afraid of me. And they will stop at nothing.
But they’re afraid of that thing and possibly me finding it before them.
They have me under surveillance, and this is even more frightening than I thought.
They know about Raven and me and them. We are all targets. They think…
Oh… Fuck. Let’s back up for a moment. They think. What the hell do they think?
They don’t know what it is or how it looks, but they have an idea. Robert has. How could he know? He suspects it. Why? Someone talked to him back in the day?
They tried to blackmail him.
No. Yes?
No. I can’t imagine anyone blackmailing him.
But he has an idea of what he’s looking for. It’s just that he doesn’t know exactly what it is. If it holds some secret information. That’s all I can think of.
It could be something trivial or mundane. Like a book. Yes. A fucking book.
A book is a great place to hide things, and a book can travel around. Carrying that information unknowingly to the owner. A book can be gifted or borrowed. Passed around.
It may look like something unassuming, like a recipe book. A diary.
Maybe they found something. Just not the whole thing. And now they know the threat is real. And it drives my father mad. Because he knows it exists.
He just doesn’t know where the rest of it is. That man in Raven’s house removed something from a wood beam in her attic.