His wife, Ellen, had died seven years earlier.
Since then, the house had felt too large for one person.
He had kept the furniture, the photographs, and the small collection of plants she had loved. He had even kept her favorite coffee mug beside the kitchen sink, although he rarely used it.
The house was not particularly secure.
But it was familiar.
And Mason trusted familiarity more than he trusted any building with cameras and electronic locks.
They arrived shortly after ten.
Mason parked the truck behind the workshop.
"Nobody uses the front entrance."
Ray looked around.
"Why?"
"Because if someone is watching, they'll expect us to walk through the front."
They entered through the workshop.
Inside, Mason kept tools, spare parts, and an old workbench. A motorcycle engine sat on a stand near the back wall.
Leah looked around.
"You still work on bikes here?"
"Sometimes."
She noticed a framed photograph on the wall.
Mason and Ellen stood beside a red motorcycle, laughing.
"Your wife?"
He nodded.
"She loved that bike."
"Did she ride?"
"Only when she wanted to frighten me."
Leah smiled faintly.
For the first time since the shooting, the room felt almost peaceful.
Mason noticed her looking at the photograph.
"She would have liked you."
Leah looked down.
"Thank you."
Ray moved toward the kitchen.
"Let's get some food."
Mason shook his head.
"First we secure the house."
He checked the rear door, the windows, and the garage entrance.
Then he returned to the kitchen.
Daniel was standing beside the table, examining an old photograph.
It showed Mason, Ray, and several members of their former motorcycle club standing outside a clubhouse.
Daniel pointed toward the far left.
"Who's that?"
Mason looked.
A younger man stood beside a black motorcycle.
He had dark hair, a narrow face, and a scar across his chin.
"That was Frank Dalton."
Daniel stared.
"He's alive?"
Mason frowned.
"Why?"
Daniel pointed to the photograph.
"Because he was working for my father."
Ray stopped moving.
Mason looked at him.
"Frank?"
Daniel nodded.
"He was the man who delivered the original shipping documents."
Mason shook his head.
"Frank was one of us."
"Maybe that's why he was useful."
Ray placed a plate on the table.
"Frank died twelve years ago."
Daniel looked at him.
"Are you sure?"
"I attended his funeral."
"Was there a body?"
Ray hesitated.
Mason noticed.
"What?"
Ray looked toward the window.
"The casket was closed."
Daniel placed the photograph on the table.
"Then he may still be alive."
Mason studied the image.
He remembered Frank as a quiet man who rarely spoke about his personal life. He had been a skilled mechanic, a loyal rider, and one of the first people to help build the original garage.
He had also disappeared shortly after the quarry accident.
Mason had assumed he was dealing with family problems.
Now that memory felt different.
"Where was he buried?" Mason asked.
Ray gave him the name of a cemetery.
Mason nodded.
"Tomorrow we'll find out."
Daniel looked toward the black device.
"We don't have until tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because my father knows I have the recording."
Mason frowned.
"How?"
Daniel looked at his phone.
"Because he called me ten minutes ago."
Leah turned.
"What?"
Daniel showed them the screen.
An incoming call from an unknown number.
The call had ended.
Then a message appeared.
COME HOME. WE NEED TO TALK.
A second message followed.
BRING YOUR SISTER.
Leah went pale.
Mason took the phone.
"Don't answer."
Daniel shook his head.
"He knows where we are."
"Maybe."
"He knows about the storage locker."
"Maybe."
"He knows everything."
Mason looked at him.
"No. If he knew everything, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Ray nodded.
"He's trying to make you frightened."
Mason returned the phone.
"Which means he still needs something."
Daniel looked at the device.
"The recording."
Mason shook his head.
"Something else."
He turned toward the window.
"Something he hasn't found."
Leah looked at the folders.
Then her expression changed.
"Daniel."
He turned.
"What?"
She opened her bag and removed a small envelope.
"I never told you about this."
Daniel stared.
"What is it?"
"A letter from Mother."
She unfolded it.
The paper was old, with a handwritten message inside.
My children,
If you are reading this, then I have failed to protect you.
Your father is not the only person involved in what happened. There is someone inside the family who has been helping him for years.
I know you will want to believe that person is incapable of hurting you.
Please don't make that mistake.
The truth is hidden where your father keeps the things he cannot afford to lose.
Look for the red ledger.
Leah looked up.
"Mother gave this to me before she died."
Daniel's expression changed.
"Where have you kept it?"
"In my apartment."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought it was just another warning."
Mason studied the letter.
"Your father keeps a red ledger?"
Daniel nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"Where?"
"In his private office."
"Then that's where we're going."
Ray shook his head.
"Absolutely not."
Mason looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because his property is guarded."
"Then we'll find another way."
Daniel shook his head.
"There isn't another way. The ledger contains the names of everyone who received money."
Mason folded the letter.
"Then we need it."
Leah looked frightened.
"You're talking about breaking into my father's house."
Mason met her eyes.
"No. I'm talking about finding evidence before he can destroy it."
Daniel looked toward the door.
"And if he catches us?"
Mason's expression became hard.
"Then he'll finally have to answer for what he did."
The Bennett estate stood behind a stone wall on the eastern side of Blackwater, overlooking a private lake and several acres of carefully maintained woodland.
It was the kind of property that made people slow down when they passed it.
A long driveway curved between oak trees. Security cameras watched the entrance, and two stone pillars supported an iron gate bearing the Bennett family crest.
Mason had driven past the property many times.
He had never imagined entering it.
Thomas Bennett had once been one of the wealthiest men in the county. His companies owned warehouses, construction equipment, transportation contracts, and commercial property throughout the region. His name appeared on hospital donation plaques and the walls of several local charities.
People called him generous.
People called him respectable.
People called him a pillar of the community.
Mason had learned a long time ago that respectable men could sometimes hide the ugliest secrets.
They arrived at the estate shortly after midnight.
There were four of them.
Mason drove an old pickup with a utility trailer. Ray sat beside him, while Leah and Daniel followed in a separate vehicle.