She reached into her pocket.
Then she pulled out something small.
A silver ring.
Grant recognized it from the photographs.
"This belonged to Thomas."
"Yes."
"Why are you carrying it?"
"He gave it to me the night before he died."
Grant examined it.
There was a tiny engraving inside.
Three letters.
N.C.R.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
Grant turned the ring over.
Inside the band was another mark.
A series of numbers.
17-04-91.
Grant stared at it.
"What is this date?"
Evelyn thought.
"April seventeenth, 1991."
"What happened then?"
"I don't remember."
Grant looked toward the study.
"Maybe your husband wanted you to remember."
At that moment, Marcus appeared at the doorway.
"Grant."
Grant turned.
Marcus held a dusty wooden box.
"Found this under the floorboards in the basement."
Evelyn stood.
"Thomas?"
Marcus nodded.
The box was locked.
There was no key.
Grant examined it.
The lock was old.
Marcus smiled faintly.
"Give me two minutes."
He disappeared into the garage.
When he returned, he had a set of tools.
He worked carefully.
A few seconds later, the lock clicked.
The box opened.
Inside were documents.
Old photographs.
A cassette tape.
And a black notebook.
Evelyn covered her mouth.
"My husband."
Grant picked up the notebook.
The first pages were ordinary.
Engineering calculations.
Water samples.
Soil reports.
Names of companies.
Dates.
Then the writing changed.
The entries became shorter.
More urgent.
Grant read one page.
Then another.
His face hardened.
"What's wrong?" Doc asked.
Grant handed him the notebook.
Doc read.
His expression changed.
"Jesus."
Marcus leaned closer.
"What?"
Doc pointed to a line.
"Northstar."
The room went silent.
Grant took the notebook back.
There were entries dating back more than thirty years.
Thomas had worked as an environmental engineer for a company that had eventually been absorbed into Northstar Development.
The company had operated industrial facilities across Missouri.
One of those facilities had apparently contaminated groundwater.
But the contamination was more extensive than anyone had publicly admitted.
Thomas had documented it.
Page after page.
Water samples.
Chemical readings.
Names.
Payments.
Meetings.
And then there was something else.
A list of people.
Several names had been crossed out.
Next to three of them was the word DEAD.
Evelyn sat down.
"Who are they?"
Grant read the names.
"They were engineers."
"Friends of Thomas?"
"Maybe."
Marcus picked up one of the photographs.
It showed Thomas standing beside several men in front of an industrial facility.
On the back was a date.
April 17, 1991.
The same date engraved inside the ring.
Grant stared at it.
"That's why they want this property."
Doc nodded.
"But why this property?"
Marcus looked toward the creek.
"Maybe the contamination started here."
They hurried outside.
The creek was quiet.
Water moved over smooth stones.
Marcus crouched.
"What if this isn't just a creek?"
Grant looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
Marcus pointed downstream.
"It runs toward the old Northstar facility."
Doc's expression darkened.
"Which means groundwater."
Grant turned toward the farmhouse.
"What did Thomas know?"
Before anyone could answer, the sound of engines came from the driveway.
The six men froze.
It wasn't six o'clock yet.
It was 5:37.
Three black SUVs appeared again.
But this time there were more vehicles behind them.
Five.
Then seven.
Grant counted.
"That's not security."
Doc nodded.
"No."
The vehicles stopped.
Doors opened.
Men stepped out.
Adrian Vale stood in the center.
This time he wasn't smiling.
Grant walked toward the porch.
"You said six."
Vale looked at his watch.
"I changed my mind."
"You seem to do that often."
Vale's eyes hardened.
"Give me the notebook."
Everything stopped.
Evelyn whispered,
"They know."
Grant turned.
"Get inside."
She obeyed.
Vale walked closer.
"You don't understand what you're holding."
Grant said nothing.
"You think this is about land."
"Isn't it?"
"No."
Vale looked at the farmhouse.
"It's about what Thomas Carter discovered."
Grant's eyes narrowed.
"So you admit it."
Vale realized his mistake.
For the first time, uncertainty crossed his face.
Then he said,
"You should give me the notebook."
"Why?"
"Because people have already died over it."
Silence.
Grant's hand tightened.
"Who?"
Vale looked at him.
"Your question is exactly why you should walk away."
Grant shook his head.
"Not tonight."
The first man moved toward the porch.
Doc stepped in front of him.
"Stop."
The man stopped.
Grant looked at Vale.
"Tell your men to stay back."
Vale stared at him.
Then smiled.
"You still think you're in control."
Grant's voice remained calm.
"No."
He looked around.
"I think you're scared."
Vale's smile disappeared.
And then the lights of another vehicle appeared at the end of the road.
But this time it wasn't one of Vale's SUVs.
It was a police cruiser.
Then another.
And another.
Vale turned.
"What?"
Sheriff's vehicles entered the property.
The first cruiser stopped.
Sheriff Wade Collins stepped out.
He was an older man with a broad face and tired eyes.
He looked at Vale.
Then Grant.
Then the farmhouse.
"Adrian."
Vale's face tightened.
"Sheriff."
"I got a call."
"From who?"
Collins looked toward the farmhouse.
"An attorney in Jefferson City."
Vale went pale.
Grant noticed.
The sheriff continued.
"He says he has evidence that the property documents may have been forged."
Vale stared at him.
"That's impossible."
"Maybe."
Collins looked toward Grant.
"But that's not all."
He held up a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a copy of Thomas Carter's original environmental report.
"We found this in the state archive."
Vale's face had lost all color.
Grant stepped down from the porch.
"What does it say?"
Collins looked at him.
"It says the creek was contaminated thirty-five years ago."
Marcus whispered,
"By Northstar."
The sheriff nodded.
"By a company that later became Northstar."
Vale stepped backward.
Grant looked toward the farmhouse.
Then at Evelyn.
She stood in the doorway.
Her face was wet with tears.
Not from rain.
She had finally understood.
Her husband hadn't been paranoid.
He hadn't been confused.
He had been protecting her.
For thirty-five years.
The notebook contained enough information to reopen the investigation.
The cassette tape contained Thomas's voice.
And the original records contained evidence that Northstar had covered up the contamination, bribed officials, destroyed reports, and threatened witnesses.
The property wasn't valuable because of the land.
It was valuable because the creek still carried the physical evidence.
And Thomas had known it.
That night, the Iron Wolves stayed at the farmhouse.
Not because Evelyn needed six men to fight for her.
But because after thirty-five years, she finally had people willing to listen.
The next morning, federal investigators arrived.
Then environmental officials.
Then reporters.
Northstar Development denied everything.
For three days.
Then five.
Then two weeks.
But the evidence kept growing.
The forged deed was traced to a document processor who admitted he had been paid.
The threatening photograph was connected to a private investigator hired by Northstar.
The sheriff's department discovered that several old case files had been altered.
The notebook was authenticated.
Thomas's handwriting was confirmed.
The cassette tape was analyzed.
And on it, recorded more than twenty years earlier, Thomas Carter spoke clearly.
"If you're hearing this," he said, "then they finally came for the property."
Evelyn cried when she heard his voice.
Grant stood beside her.
Thomas continued.
"I couldn't prove everything while I was alive. But I left enough."
There was a pause.
Then his voice became quieter.
"The creek is the key."
Investigators eventually discovered a buried drainage system beneath the property.
It had been constructed decades earlier.
It connected the old industrial site to the creek.
Samples taken from the system matched the contamination described in Thomas's reports.
Northstar had spent millions trying to erase the evidence.
But they couldn't erase the earth.