Chương 7
The hinges squealed.
Inside lay three chisels, a level, two wrenches, and a note in Camden’s handwriting.
Put things back where they belong.
Finnley sat on the attic floor.
Nora climbed halfway up. “Everything okay?”
“No.”
She waited.
He held up the note. “He was very emotional.”
She read it and smiled despite herself.
From the bottom of the toolbox, Finnley removed an old red-handled screwdriver. Camden had taught him to repair a leaking faucet with it. Finnley remembered complaining that the handle hurt his palm.
“Then hold it correctly,” Camden had said.
He placed the screwdriver in his pocket.
The fourth carton held family photographs. Reagan appeared in most of them, beautiful and composed, one hand resting lightly on someone else’s shoulder. Carter smiled more easily as a child. Finnley found a picture of the three men standing beside the boiler at Cedar Court after the repair Camden mentioned in his letter.
Carter was nineteen, clean-shaven and narrow in the face. Finnley had his arm around him. Camden stood apart, looking annoyed because they were dirty and the photographer had interrupted lunch.
On the back, Carter had written: Dad said we’d flood the whole building. We did not. Historic day.
Finnley put the picture into the toolbox.
When he came downstairs, the property manager was arguing with Nora about the chipped mug.
“This item may belong to the estate.”
“It does belong to the estate,” Nora said. “Mr. Dennis is an heir.”
“Potential heir. The will is being contested.”
Finnley set the mug on the floor.
“Keep it,” he said.
The manager looked embarrassed. “I’m only following procedure.”
“That mug survived my father, my stepmother, and three years of dust. It can survive procedure.”
He left with the toolbox and photographs.
That night, Carter called from the county detention center.
Finnley stared at the unknown number until it stopped ringing. It called again.
He answered.
A recorded voice announced the call and instructed him how to accept the charges.
He nearly hung up.
Then Carter said, “Finn, please.”
Finnley pressed the number to accept.
For several seconds, neither brother spoke.
Carter’s breathing sounded shallow. Voices echoed behind him. Someone shouted for a phone.
“You look terrible on television,” Carter said.
Finnley closed his eyes.
Carter had always used humor when he wanted another person to cross the distance first.
“You look worse,” Finnley said.
“I know.”
Another silence.
“What do you want?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You are.”
“Not on this phone.”
“Then we’re done.”
“Wait.”
Finnley waited.
Carter lowered his voice. “Mom didn’t plan for Dad to disappear.”
Finnley’s hand tightened around the phone.
“Reagan,” he said.
“What?”
“Call her Reagan.”
“She raised us.”
“She raised you.”
Carter exhaled. “Fine. Reagan didn’t plan it.”
“Plan what?”
“I can’t say here.”
“You called me.”
“My lawyer wants to arrange a meeting.”
“Then your lawyer can call Nora.”
“He did.”
“And?”
“She said you wouldn’t agree unless I asked.”
Finnley looked across the hotel room. Camden’s portrait remained facedown on the bathroom counter. The chipped blue mug sat on the desk because he had returned to the house after dark and taken it when the property manager was gone. He had listed it on the form.
“What does your lawyer want?” he asked.
“A proffer.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I tell prosecutors what I know before they decide whether to offer anything.”
“Anything for you.”
“Yes.”
“What do you need from me?”
Carter’s voice became smaller. “They want the letter.”
“They have copies.”
“The original.”
“No.”
“Finn—”
“No.”
“Dad’s letter talks about coercion.”
“It says nothing excuses you.”
“I know what it says.”
“You read it?”
A pause.
“I saw a draft.”
Finnley stood.
“What draft?”
“Dad wrote parts of it at the office.”
“You knew about the letter.”
“Not where he put it.”
“You knew he believed me.”
“I knew he was starting to.”
“He said before my trial.”
“Finnley, I can explain.”
“You testified that I stole from him.”
“Reagan said if I changed my statement, Dad would go to prison and every building would be seized. Hundreds of tenants could lose their apartments. She showed me the accounts.”
“So you saved everyone by sending me instead.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“It is exactly what you’re saying.”
Carter’s breath shook. “I was scared.”
“So was Walter.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Everyone keeps saying that right before they ask for something.”
The recorded voice interrupted to announce sixty seconds remained.
Carter spoke quickly. “Dad met Reagan at the storage facility. I followed them. There was an accident.”
Finnley could hear his own pulse.
“What accident?”
“I saw where they took him.”
The line went quiet.
“Carter?”
The recorded voice announced the call had ended.
Finnley hurled the phone across the room.
It struck the wall and separated into three pieces.
For ten minutes he stood over it, breathing through his mouth.
Then he found the flashlight Walter had brought and used its beam to locate the battery beneath the bed.
Nora arranged the meeting for the following morning.
Carter entered the secure interview room wearing a beige jail uniform and wrist restraints. Without the charcoal suit, he looked thinner. A bruise darkened one cheek where, according to his lawyer, another detainee had recognized him from television.
Anthony Vale sat beside him with a legal pad.
Ruiz attended with an investigator. Nora sat next to Finnley. A camera recorded the meeting from the ceiling, and everyone acknowledged that no agreement had been made.
Carter kept glancing at Finnley’s hands.
“What?” Finnley asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re looking.”
“Your fingers.”
The three that had been broken never rested straight.
Finnley placed both hands flat on the table.
“Talk.”
Vale intervened. “Mr. Dennis, my client is prepared to provide substantial information concerning Camden Dennis’s disappearance, but we need to clarify the scope of potential cooperation.”
Finnley looked at Nora. “That means he wants a deal.”
May you like
“Yes,” Nora said.
Vale frowned. “It means he is attempting to assist while protecting his constitutional interests.”
