Chapter 13 - Home Again
Charlie returned to the Bennett house.
The first night, he searched every room.
Bedroom.
Garage.
Kitchen.
Back door.
At five o’clock, he sat by the garage.
Margaret sat beside him.
No television.
No phone.
Just the two of them.
At 5:17, Charlie stood.
Walked upstairs.
Jumped onto Robert’s side of the bed.
And slept.
Margaret called me crying.
“He finally slept.”
That should have felt like an ending.
It was not.
The next morning, Margaret found an envelope under Robert’s pillow.
So someone had placed it there later.
The handwriting was Laura’s.
Mom,
If Dad tells you I stole from you, ask him why he hid what happened to Michael.
Margaret called me immediately.
“Who is Michael?”
“My son.”
I froze.
“You have a son?”
“Had.”
Car accident.
Age twenty-one.
I had never heard his name.
Margaret’s voice shook.
“Laura was eighteen.”
“Why would Robert hide something?”
“I don’t know.”
She opened the rest of the letter.
Robert knew Michael was using drugs. He covered it up. He paid people. He protected the family name. He always gets to be the good man.
Margaret sat down.
Charlie watched her.
This story had been about Robert as victim.
Maybe he was.
Margaret called Harris.
The old accident file showed Michael crashed alone at night.
Toxicology positive for opioids.
Robert had not hidden that.
It was in the record.
A second vehicle had left the scene.
The driver was never identified.
Then Harris found a supplemental report.
Witness statement.
Sealed at family request.
Driver description:
Female.
Approximately eighteen to twenty.
Margaret whispered:
May you like
“Laura.”
The investigation had just turned backward twenty-seven years.
