Chapter 13 - The Brass Key.
The demand for the silver key was a test.
That was Brooks's conclusion.
Whoever sent the message wanted to know how much Chris had discovered.
If he arrived with the silver key, they would know Natalie's hidden system had been opened.
If he brought the ledger, they would know the lake house safe had also been found.
The real target remained the brass key.
Chris hated playing a game whose rules had been written by dead people and liars.
"What does the brass key open?" he asked.
Elena shook her head.
"Natalie never told me."
"She gave it to Thomas."
"According to the note."
"Why would she trust him if she feared his land deal?"
Elena looked at Chris.
"Maybe she did not trust him."
"Maybe she gave him something she wanted Grant to think was important."
Brooks nodded.
"Or she used him as a vault."
Evelyn, who had been listening from the far side of the room, finally spoke.
"Thomas had a private deposit box that Grant could not access."
Everyone turned toward her.
"Where?" Brooks asked.
"A bank in Burlington."
"Do you know the box number?"
"No."
Evelyn looked at Elena.
"But you might."
Elena frowned.
"Why would I?"
"Thomas used birthdays for everything."
Elena went still.
"Mine?"
Evelyn nodded.
"He never acknowledged you publicly, but he remembered your birthday every year."
Elena looked away.
The information hurt more than it comforted.
Brooks obtained an emergency order and contacted the bank.
Thomas Vale still had an active safe-deposit box.
The box number matched Elena's birth date.
A judge authorized access because Thomas was missing and the investigation involved immediate threats to a child and a potential kidnapping.
Inside the box, bank officials found one brass key and a sealed letter addressed to Natalie.
The key was transferred to police custody by afternoon.
The letter was older.
Thomas had written it five years earlier.
Natalie,
I was wrong to ask you to break the trust.
Grant says there is a legal way around it, but I no longer believe him.
He is buying land in my name without my permission.
I gave you the brass key because you are the only person I trust to decide what to do with what it opens.
If you are reading this after something happens to me, do not let Grant near the old survey tunnel.
Burn the maps if you must.
Thomas.
Chris read the letter.
"Survey tunnel?"
Evelyn looked toward the lake map.
"There are old utility tunnels under part of the estate."
"They were built when the first Hawthorne House burned in 1931."
"Most were sealed."
Elena's face changed.
"Not all."
Chris looked at her.
"You know where one is."
"The north boathouse."
The demand suddenly made sense.
The meeting location was not random.
The boathouse sat above one of the old underground routes.
If the brass key opened a hidden door there, Grant might be using Vanessa as leverage to obtain it.
Brooks changed the plan.
Chris would go to the boathouse wearing a wire.
The silver key and a copy of the ledger would be placed in a bag.
The real brass key would remain with police.
Tactical officers would approach through the woods and across the lake in unmarked boats.
Chris agreed to everything except one detail.
"If Vanessa is inside, I am getting her out."
Brooks looked at him.
"You do exactly what we tell you."
"She tried to hurt Lily."
"And?"
"And she still does not deserve to be killed."
Brooks nodded once.
"Good."
At 9:52 p.m., Chris walked alone along the narrow path toward the north boathouse.
Rain had begun to fall.
The lake was black beyond the trees.
The bag felt heavier than it should have.
A small transmitter was taped beneath his shirt.
Brooks's voice came softly through the earpiece.
"We have eyes on you."
Chris did not respond.
The boathouse door stood partly open.
A single yellow light burned inside.
Chris entered.
Vanessa sat in the same wooden chair from the photograph.
Her wrists were bound.
She looked at him with panic.
"Chris, leave."
"Where is Grant?"
"Leave now."
A floorboard creaked behind him.
Chris turned.
Grant stood near the wall holding a pistol low at his side.
His face looked almost calm.
"You always did make everything harder than it needed to be," Grant said.
Chris kept his hands visible.
"You threw away your family for real estate."
"Do not reduce this to real estate."
"Lily is eight years old."
Grant's expression flickered.
"I never told Vanessa to throw her in the pool."
Vanessa shouted from the chair.
"You told me to make sure she could not stop us."
Grant's jaw tightened.
"That was not an instruction to kill a child."
"You knew what you were asking."
Chris took one slow step toward Vanessa.
Grant raised the weapon.
"Put the bag down."
Chris obeyed.
"Where is Thomas?"
Grant looked toward the floor.
"Closer than you think."
A metal sound came from beneath the boathouse.
Then a voice echoed through the floorboards.
"Grant."
May you like
It was weak, old, and unmistakably angry.
Thomas Vale was under them.
