Chapter 10 - THE KEY WITH NO LOCK
The note had been kept by a Dallas attorney who was retiring. After Victor's death, she'd been instructed to send the envelope only if Roland Pike's name surfaced again in a legal filing. A clerk had seen the guardianship petition online and followed the instruction.
Arthur held the small brass key beside his grandmother's silver cane. “Where does it go?”
Evelyn's face softened when she saw it. “Your father kept a fireproof box in the old carriage house. I haven't opened it since the trial.”
The carriage house smelled of dust and motor oil. Malcolm helped them move a cabinet while a uniformed officer remained outside. Behind the cabinet sat a rusted box with a brass lock.
Inside were twenty-three letters from investors, Victor's sworn testimony, and an audio cassette labeled For Arthur—not yet. Evelyn started to cry at the sight of it.
“Why did you keep this from me?” Arthur asked.
“Because you were sixteen. Because I thought there would be a better day.”
He didn't play the tape immediately. First, he read a ledger tucked under the letters. There was no hidden family fortune. There were dates, unpaid claims, and a column of transfers from a restitution account to companies owned by Meridian. The transfers began after Victor's death.
Arthur called Daniel. “I found the missing entries.”
“Then you need to know what I found today,” Daniel said. “The companies didn't just move money. They bought the mortgages on three victims' homes.”
Arthur thought of Maria Navarro's eviction notices. “Why buy their mortgages?”
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“Because somebody wanted those families silent,” Daniel said. “And one of the addresses belongs to a witness who disappeared this morning.”
