They had agreed not to use their phones.
They had also agreed that nobody would enter the property unless they understood the risks.
But Mason had another reason for coming.
He wanted to see Thomas Bennett.
He wanted to look into the man's eyes and ask why he had spent fifteen years allowing innocent people to carry the consequences of his decisions.
And he wanted to know why someone had tried to kill him.
The vehicles stopped on a narrow road overlooking the eastern boundary.
Ray studied the property through binoculars.
"Two guards at the main entrance."
"Anything on the eastern side?" Mason asked.
"One camera near the maintenance building. Another covering the lake."
Daniel pointed toward a small structure near the trees.
"That's the old greenhouse."
Mason followed his finger.
"What about it?"
"My mother used to spend hours there. Father never cared about it."
Leah looked at her brother.
"There was a basement entrance."
Daniel nodded.
"Behind the storage shelves."
Ray lowered the binoculars.
"How do you know?"
"I used to hide there when I was a kid."
Mason looked toward the estate.
"Then that's our way in."
They left the vehicles concealed beneath the trees and approached on foot.
The grass was wet with dew. Somewhere beyond the property, an owl called from the darkness.
Mason moved slowly, paying attention to the ground.
He was not interested in being brave.
He was interested in getting everybody home.
At the edge of the greenhouse, Daniel stopped.
"This is it."
The building was old, with cracked glass panels and ivy covering one side. A rusted metal door stood partially hidden behind a wooden trellis.
Daniel tried the handle.
Locked.
Ray examined the mechanism.
"Old-fashioned."
He produced a small set of tools.
Mason watched the surrounding trees while Ray worked.
A minute later, the lock clicked.
They entered.
Inside, the greenhouse smelled of damp earth and dead leaves. Broken flowerpots were stacked against one wall. An old wooden bench stood beneath a window.
Leah touched the bench.
"Mother sat here."
Daniel looked around.
"I haven't been here since the accident."
Mason noticed a narrow staircase behind a row of shelves.
"That the entrance?"
Daniel nodded.
They moved the shelves aside.
A metal door appeared.
Daniel tried the handle.
It opened.
The staircase descended into darkness.
Ray switched on his flashlight.
"Stay close."
The basement was smaller than Mason expected.
There were shelves containing old gardening supplies, several boxes of household documents, and a locked cabinet.
Daniel walked directly toward it.
"Father used to keep personal papers here."
"Why here?" Mason asked.
"Because nobody would think to search a greenhouse."
Leah examined the cabinet.
"Do you have a key?"
Daniel shook his head.
Ray stepped forward.
"Let me."
He studied the lock and opened his tool bag.
While Ray worked, Mason noticed a photograph lying beneath a pile of old newspapers.
He picked it up.
It showed Thomas Bennett standing beside three men.
One was Victor Hale.
Another was Daniel Mercer.
The third was Frank Dalton.
Mason felt his stomach tighten.
He turned the photograph over.
A date had been written on the back.
October 12.
Two days before the quarry accident.
"Ray."
Ray looked up.
Mason handed him the photograph.
Ray stared at it.
"That's my brother."
Daniel stepped closer.
"Who's the other man?"
Mason pointed.
"Frank."
Leah looked at the photograph.
"Who is Victor Hale?"
Ray answered.
"The man who ran the transportation operation."
Daniel shook his head.
"Not exactly."
He pointed toward the center of the picture.
"Victor wasn't the one in charge."
Mason looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
Daniel examined the third man's position.
"Look at their hands."
Mason leaned closer.
Thomas Bennett stood slightly behind the others. Victor Hale held a folder. Daniel Mercer was looking toward the camera.
But Frank Dalton's hand rested on Thomas Bennett's shoulder.
It was a small gesture.
Almost friendly.
Yet there was something about the photograph that made Mason uncomfortable.
Daniel took a breath.
"Frank was my father's closest adviser."
Ray stopped working.
"What?"
"Not an employee. Not a contractor. He was the person my father trusted most."
Mason looked at the photograph again.
"Then why was he riding with us?"
Daniel answered quietly.
"Because he was watching you."
The cabinet lock clicked.
Ray pulled the door open.
Inside were several folders, a small metal box, and a thick red ledger.
Leah immediately reached for it.
"That's it."
Daniel picked it up.
The cover was worn, but the pages inside were carefully organized.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Company numbers.
And handwritten notes.
Mason opened the first page.
He found a list of transportation companies.
The second page contained bank transfers.
The third contained the names of public officials.
Then he reached a page dated October 14, fifteen years earlier.
Three names were written in large letters.
DANIEL BENNETT.
LEAH BENNETT.
MASON COLE.
Beside each name was a handwritten instruction.
Daniel: Recover documents.
Leah: Prevent testimony.
Mason: Eliminate witness.
Mason stared at the page.
"That's it."
Ray looked over his shoulder.
"Jesus."
Leah covered her mouth.
Daniel turned several pages.
Then he stopped.
His expression changed.
"What?" Mason asked.
Daniel pointed toward the bottom of the page.
A fourth name had been written there.
RAY MERCER.
Beside it was a short instruction.
KEEP HIM CLOSE. HE WILL BE USEFUL LATER.
Ray stepped backward.
For several seconds, he seemed unable to breathe.
Mason looked at him.
"Ray?"
Ray shook his head.
"I didn't know."
Daniel looked at him.
"Perhaps not."
Mason turned another page.
There were more names.
Several belonged to people who had died under suspicious circumstances.
One belonged to a former police investigator.
Another belonged to a county clerk.
Then Mason saw a name that made him stop.
EVELYN COLE.
His mother's name.
He looked at the date.
It was from fifteen years earlier.
"What is this?"
Leah moved closer.
Mason read the handwritten note.
CONTACT THROUGH FAMILY. DO NOT APPROACH DIRECTLY.
His hands tightened around the ledger.
"What did my mother have to do with this?"
Ray looked at the page.
"I don't know."
Mason turned toward Daniel.
"Did your father know my family?"
Daniel shook his head.
"Not personally."
Mason looked at the name again.
His mother had died eleven years earlier.
She had spent the final years of her life in a small house outside town, caring for her garden and volunteering at the local food bank.
She had never mentioned Thomas Bennett.
Never mentioned Victor Hale.
Never mentioned any involvement with the transportation company.
But Mason remembered something.
A conversation from years ago.
His mother had once asked him whether he still had the photograph of his father standing beside an old truck.
At the time, he had thought it was simply nostalgia.