Duke slept beside the fireplace.
Walter sat in his old chair.
For the first time in weeks, he felt almost peaceful.
Then Sarah approached.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"I found something."
She handed him a photograph.
It showed Eleanor standing beside a young woman outside the old bank building.
Walter studied it.
The woman was unfamiliar.
"Who is that?"
"I don't know."
Sarah turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten note.
Eleanor and Helen, Cedar Hollow, 1994.
Walter looked up.
"Helen?"
Sarah nodded.
"Helen Brooks."
The retired bank employee who had recently contacted the sheriff.
Walter examined the photograph again.
"Your mother knew her."
Sarah smiled.
"Apparently."
Walter picked up the telephone.
He called Helen.
She answered after several rings.
"Hello?"
"Helen? This is Walter Briggs."
There was a pause.
"Walter?"
"Yes."
"Oh, my goodness. Is everything all right?"
"I think so. I found a photograph of you and Eleanor."
Helen became quiet.
Then she said:
"I wondered when you'd find that."
Walter sat forward.
"You knew about the railway documents?"
"I knew some of them existed."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Helen sighed.
"Because your wife asked me not to."
Walter stared at the photograph.
"What?"
"She was afraid that if you became involved, somebody might use your family against you."
Walter felt his chest tighten.
"What did she know?"
Helen took a breath.
"More than you think."
Helen arrived at the farmhouse the following afternoon.
She was seventy-one, with silver hair and a walking stick.
When she entered the kitchen, she stopped in front of Eleanor's photograph.
"She never changed that picture."
Walter smiled sadly.
"No."
Helen sat down.
For a few minutes, they discussed the past.
Then Walter asked the question that had been troubling him.
"What happened in 1994?"
Helen looked toward the window.
"Arthur Voss approached the bank about purchasing the railway corridor. Your father objected. He had documents proving that the bridge was still subject to the cooperative agreement."
Walter nodded.
"I found those documents."
Helen continued.
"At the time, I was working in the bank's legal records department. I noticed that several copies of the original deeds had disappeared."
"Who took them?"
"I never found out."
"Did you tell Eleanor?"
"Yes."
Walter looked surprised.
Helen smiled faintly.
"Your wife was very difficult to discourage."
Walter laughed softly.
"That sounds like her."
Helen became serious again.
"She came to see me because she was worried about your father. He had received several threats."
Walter went still.
"What threats?"
"Telephone calls. Letters. Someone followed him home from work."
Walter looked down.
His father had never told him.
"Why didn't he say anything?"
"Because he believed he could handle it."
Walter closed his eyes.
Helen continued.
"Then, shortly before he died, he gave me a sealed envelope. He asked me to keep it until someone tried to acquire the railway land again."
Walter stared at her.
"Where is it?"
Helen opened her handbag.
She removed a small envelope.
It had been sealed with old yellowing tape.
On the front were four words.
For Walter Briggs.
Walter's hands trembled.
He opened it carefully.
Inside was a letter from his father.
Son,
If you are reading this, someone has started asking about the railway land again.
I want you to understand something. The land was never meant to belong to one wealthy company. Your grandfather helped establish the cooperative so that local families would always have access to the bridge and the surrounding fields.
Arthur Voss tried to buy it when I was young. He offered me more money than I had ever seen. I refused.
He told me that one day somebody would take it anyway.
I hope he was wrong.
If he wasn't, remember that a man can lose his money, his land, and even his reputation. But he should never surrender the truth simply because someone offers him an easier life.
Look after Eleanor.
And remember that this farm is not valuable because of what somebody might pay for it.
It is valuable because of the people who built their lives here.
Walter stopped reading.
His eyes filled with tears.
He folded the letter carefully.
For a long time, he couldn't speak.
Then he whispered:
"I wish I'd known."
Helen reached across the table.
"Your father wanted you to have a peaceful life."
Walter nodded.
"I know."
He looked at Eleanor's photograph.
"And my wife wanted the same thing."
Helen smiled.
"She did."
The letter contained another clue.
At the bottom, Robert Briggs had written the name of a lawyer.
Thomas Whitaker.
He had handled the original cooperative agreement.
Walter remembered him.
Whitaker had been a friend of his father.
He had died many years earlier, but his daughter, Margaret, still practiced law in the state capital.
Mara contacted her.