Frank read it twice.
Marcus came to stand beside him.
What is it?
Frank handed him the paper.
Marcus's expression hardened.
Who sent this?
I don't know.
Then we find out.
Frank looked across the playground.
Noah was showing his classmates the badge.
For a moment, Frank considered hiding the note. The boy had enjoyed his day. There was no reason to frighten him with a threat he couldn't understand.
But the message had changed everything.
Someone knew the Iron Wolves were looking into Daniel's disappearance.
Someone had been watching.
And someone was worried enough to warn them away.
Frank folded the note and put it in his pocket.
The seven-dollar story was no longer simply about a lonely boy asking for help.
It had become a search for the truth.
And the truth, Frank suspected, was going to be far more dangerous than anyone at Lincoln Elementary could imagine.
The first sign that something was wrong came at six-forty the following morning.
Sarah was preparing Noah's breakfast when someone knocked on the apartment door.
Three firm knocks.
Not the impatient tapping of a neighbor. Not the quick rhythm of a delivery driver.
Three measured blows.
Sarah froze.
Noah was in the bathroom brushing his teeth.
She crossed the kitchen quietly and looked through the peephole.
A man stood in the hallway wearing a dark jacket and a baseball cap. He was perhaps fifty years old, with a narrow face and pale eyes. He carried no package and held no clipboard.
Sarah didn't recognize him.
She kept the chain fastened and opened the door a few inches.
Can I help you?
The man looked at her.
Sarah Bennett?
Who are you?
I need to ask you something about Daniel.
Every muscle in her body tightened.
I have nothing to say.
He leaned slightly toward the opening.
You should be careful about the people you let around your son.
Sarah gripped the edge of the door.
Leave.
Those bikers think they're helping you. They don't understand what happened.
Leave now.
The man studied her for a moment, then stepped backward.
You have a child to protect. Remember that.
He walked toward the stairwell.
Sarah watched him until he disappeared.
Then she closed the door, locked it, and checked the chain twice.
Noah came out of the bathroom.
Who was that?
Nobody.
He looked at her face.
Mom?
Sarah forced a smile.
Just someone who had the wrong apartment.
She helped him finish breakfast, but her hands shook so badly that she spilled milk across the table.
Noah fetched a towel without being asked.
It's okay, he said.
Sarah looked at her son and realized that he had become accustomed to comforting her.
She hated that.
Children were supposed to spill milk, lose pencils, and complain about homework. They weren't supposed to learn how to recognize fear in their mother's face.
After Noah left for school, Sarah called Frank.
He answered immediately.
Sarah?
Someone came to my apartment this morning.
Frank's voice changed.
What happened?
She described the man, repeating his warning as accurately as she could.
When she finished, Frank asked whether she had seen a vehicle.
No.
Did he threaten you physically?
Not directly.
Did he touch the door or try to come inside?
No.
Frank was silent for a moment.
Sarah, I need you to take this seriously.
I am taking it seriously.
I mean, don't go looking for him. Don't confront him if he comes back. If you feel threatened, call the police.
She closed her eyes.
You think I don't know that?
I think you're frightened, and I don't want you to make a decision out of fear.
Sarah's anger rose.
You don't get to tell me what to do with my fear, Frank.
You're right.
The answer stopped her.
He continued quietly.
I don't. But somebody knows we're looking into Daniel's disappearance. That means this may be bigger than a family disagreement.
Sarah sat down.
What did Daniel get involved in?
I don't know.
Then find out.
Frank paused.
Are you sure?
Sarah stared at the wall.
No. I'm not sure of anything anymore.
She swallowed.
But if somebody is threatening me because of something that happened six years ago, I deserve to know why.
Frank agreed to help.
He also told her about the anonymous note left at the school.
For several seconds, Sarah couldn't speak.
The same message had reached both of them within hours.
Someone was trying to keep them apart.
Someone was afraid of what they might discover.
And someone had known exactly where Sarah lived.
At the clubhouse, Frank gathered Marcus, Hector, and Raymond.
He showed them the note and described the visitor at Sarah's apartment.
Raymond frowned.
We should take this to the police.
We should, Frank agreed. "But we need more information."
Marcus leaned over the workbench.
Do you remember what Daniel was doing before he left?
Frank thought back.
Daniel had worked at a repair shop owned by a man named Victor Hale. Hale had been generous when the Iron Wolves first started bringing him business. He donated tools to charity events and occasionally supplied spare parts for community repair projects.
But in the months before Daniel disappeared, the relationship had changed.
Daniel had begun arriving at the clubhouse late, distracted and anxious. He had stopped riding with the group and had taken several private jobs through Hale's shop.
Frank remembered one conversation in particular.
Daniel had arrived after midnight, his face bruised and his shirt torn.
What happened? Frank had demanded.
Nothing.
That doesn't look like nothing.
Daniel had stared at the floor.
Do you know what people do when they think nobody is watching?
Frank had asked him to explain.
Daniel had shaken his head.
Forget it.
The next morning, Frank had offered to accompany him to the police.
Daniel had refused.
I can't prove anything, he had said. "And if I talk, other people get hurt."
At the time, Frank had assumed Daniel was dealing with personal shame, perhaps debt or another failed attempt to return to work.
Now he wondered whether he had misunderstood everything.
Victor Hale, he said.
Marcus looked up.