Chương 2
“Who opened Dad’s flag case?”
Nobody answered.
She lifted it carefully.
The walnut frame was heavier than she remembered.
Claire stepped closer.
“What are you talking about?”
Rachel turned the case over.
Along the back panel, the narrow paper seal their father had placed across two screws had been torn. One edge remained stuck beneath the brass hinge.
Rachel ran a finger beside it without touching.
“When did this happen?”
Claire shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Margaret stood slowly with her cane.
Brian pushed himself upright.
Rachel heard him before she saw him.
His breathing had gone shallow.
She looked over.
The color had drained from his face.
That frightened her more than his anger had.
“Brian?”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
Rachel had not accused him.
Claire noticed too.
Her expression shifted.
The three of them watched Brian realize his mistake.
Rachel set the case on the dining table.
A year earlier, she might have opened it without thinking. Eleven years in the Army and four more working corporate security investigations had taught her not to ruin evidence merely because she was impatient.
But this was not an investigation.
It was her father’s house.
Her father’s flag.
Her brother had just slapped her and accidentally acknowledged a letter none of them had been certain existed.
Rachel opened the rear clasp.
A small wooden compartment sat behind the folded flag.
Empty.
Almost empty.
Inside lay a cream-colored business card.
CALEB MORROW
Attorney at Law
A Nashville address and phone number appeared beneath the name.
Margaret’s cane struck the floor once.
“Where’s your father’s letter?”
Her voice shook for the first time.
Rachel turned the card between two fingers.
“Grandma, what exactly did Dad tell you?”
Margaret did not answer.
Rachel looked directly at Brian.
He stood beside the sofa rubbing his shoulder.
“That’s what he’s afraid I’ll find out.”
Brian’s mouth tightened.
“Rachel, you’re making this into something it isn’t.”
“What is it?”
“He was sick.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“He was confused at the end.”
Margaret said, “No, he wasn’t.”
Brian turned on her. “You weren’t here every day.”
“I was here enough.”
“You came for coffee twice a week.”
“I came Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.”
“Fine. Three times.”
“I know what your father sounded like when he was confused.”
Brian’s jaw flexed.
Margaret had been Daniel Hayes’s stepmother, technically, though nobody in the family had bothered with the qualifier in more than thirty years. Daniel’s father had remarried late. Margaret had entered a family already carrying its own habits and grudges, then outlived nearly everyone who remembered she had once been considered an outsider.
Daniel had called her Margaret until the year Brian was born.
After that, she became Grandma to everybody.
Rachel picked up her phone.
Brian took one step toward her.
“Rachel.”
She looked at him.
His voice had changed.
The roughness remained, but the arrogance had disappeared.
“Don’t make that call.”
Rachel stared at him.
“Why not, Brian?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Rachel dialed the number.
It rang once.
Twice.
On the third ring, an older man answered.
“Morrow.”
“My name is Rachel Hayes.”
Silence.
Then, “Rachel Hayes?”
“Yes.”
His tone changed so quickly that Claire moved closer to the phone.
“Where are you?”
“My father’s house.”
“Is Brian there?”
Rachel looked at her brother.
“Yes.”
“Margaret?”
“Yes.”
“Claire?”
Rachel glanced at her sister.
“Yes.”
The lawyer exhaled.
“Don’t let anyone leave that house.”
Rachel’s shoulders tightened.
“What?”
“What your father left me was never a will.”
Brian sat down.
Not casually.
His knees seemed to stop holding him.
Rachel watched her brother lower himself onto the sofa, one hand gripping the cushion.
“What did he leave you?”
“Before we discuss that, I need you to listen carefully. Is the flag case still in the house?”
“It’s on the dining table.”
“Is the envelope inside?”
Rachel looked at the empty compartment.
“No.”
Caleb Morrow said nothing for several seconds.
“Mr. Morrow?”
“Has anyone touched the compartment since you opened it?”
“I did.”
“Anyone else?”
“Not that I saw.”
“All right. Don’t clean it. Don’t move anything else. And Rachel?”
“Yes?”
“If Brian tries to remove any documents, devices, boxes, or papers from that house, do not physically stop him.”
Brian looked up.
Morrow continued, “Call the police instead.”
Claire whispered, “Jesus.”
Brian stood again.
“No.”
Rachel held up one hand.
Morrow heard him.
“That Brian?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming over.”
Brian’s face hardened. “You’re not welcome here.”
Caleb replied through the speaker, “That’s not a conversation I need to have with you.”
“This is my house.”
“Then you can tell me that again when I arrive.”
The call ended.
Nobody moved.
Evan’s small voice broke the silence.
“Mom?”
Claire turned immediately.
Her son was still sitting by the coffee table with the cards clutched against his chest.
She crossed the room and crouched in front of him.
“Hey.”
“Is Uncle Brian going to jail?”
Brian closed his eyes.
Claire looked at Rachel.
Rachel hated that the boy had seen any of it.
“No one knows what’s happening yet,” Claire told him.
“He hit Aunt Rachel.”
“I know.”
“Then she threw him.”
Rachel winced.
Claire almost smiled, but the expression died before it fully formed.
“Yes.”
“Is she a ninja?”
Despite everything, Margaret made a tiny snorting sound.
Rachel looked at Evan.
“No.”
“You looked like one.”
“I’m definitely not.”
“Can I learn that?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother would kill me.”
Claire looked over her shoulder.
“Correct.”
The tension shifted for three seconds.
Only three.
Then Brian said, “Can we stop acting like I committed murder?”
Claire rose.
“No one said murder.”
“You all look at me like I did.”
“You slapped Rachel in front of your nephew.”
“She kept pushing.”
Rachel heard Claire inhale.
“Don’t,” Claire said.
Brian rubbed both hands over his face.
“I lost my temper.”
“You hit her.”
“I know what I did.”
“Do you?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“Because ‘she kept pushing’ sounds a lot like you’re explaining why it was reasonable.”
