Chapter 7: The Dead Man Waiting at the Garage
Jackson read the last message from Hannah three times.
Your father is the man who started the fire.
His father had been buried eleven years ago in a small cemetery outside San Antonio. Jackson had stood beside the grave in a black suit, listened to the pastor speak about honor, and watched the earth close over the man who had taught him how to ride a motorcycle.
Now, nine years after Daniel Carter supposedly died, someone was telling him that his father had been involved in the fire that nearly killed his best friend.
Ryder broke the silence.
“Tell me that woman is lying.””
Jackson couldn't answer.
Cole stood near the storage unit's open door, gripping his helmet so tightly that his fingers had turned white.
“Hannah wouldn't make something like that up,” he said.
“She wouldn't.””
Marcus folded Daniel's letter and placed it inside a protective sleeve.
“We have two problems. Denise is heading toward the old garage, and Victor knows we've found the locker.””
“Three problems,” Ryder said.
“Apparently, Jackson's dead father has decided to become part of this family reunion.””
Jackson looked up sharply.
“Enough.””
Ryder raised his hands.
“I'm not joking, brother. I'm trying to keep us from falling apart.””
Jackson understood. Beneath Ryder's anger was fear, the same fear that had followed them since the day Daniel vanished.
They had believed the story they were given because the alternative was unbearable.
Now every piece of that story was coming apart.
Jackson called the safe house. Cole's trusted contact answered and confirmed that Emily was still inside with two adults whose identities had been verified. No one had approached the property.
“Keep her there,” Jackson instructed.
“Nobody takes her anywhere unless Marcus confirms it personally.””
He ended the call.
“We're going to the garage.””
Marcus nodded.
“But we aren't walking into the building until we've checked the area. We call for emergency assistance, tell them we have evidence of a possible abduction and a connection to an unsolved arson, and make sure someone independent knows where we are.””
Ryder pulled on his helmet.
“And if Daniel's there?””
Jackson stared at the photograph sticking out of his jacket pocket.
“Then I finally get to ask him why he let me bury him.””
They rode toward the old Carter Garage as the last daylight drained from the Texas sky.
The highway shimmered beneath the headlights. Trucks thundered past. Jackson kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts were somewhere else.
He remembered being seventeen, standing in his father's workshop while the old man showed him how to repair a carburetor.
Never trust a man who makes you feel guilty for asking questions, his father had said.
Back then, Jackson had thought it was advice about business.
He now wondered whether it had been a confession.
At 7:04 p.m., they reached the service road.
The garage stood beneath a pale moon, its broken windows reflecting the headlights. A single light burned inside.
Jackson killed his engine.
Ryder parked beside him. Marcus followed.
Cole remained a few steps behind, visibly shaken.
“I should tell you something,” Cole said.
Jackson turned.
“What?””
“After Hannah disappeared, I went to Victor. I begged him to tell me where she'd gone. He said she'd been killed because I couldn't keep my mouth shut.””
“Why are you telling us this now?”” Ryder asked.
“Because I saw his ring that day. The silver eagle. I thought it was just a piece of jewelry.””
Cole swallowed.
“But when he told me Hannah was dead, he was wearing a different ring.””
Marcus frowned.
“What kind?””
“A gold band with a black stone.””
Jackson felt his stomach tighten.
His father had worn a gold band with a black stone for as long as Jackson could remember.
Before anyone could speak, a figure emerged from the garage.
He was tall and thin, dressed in a dark coat. His hair had turned almost entirely gray, but his shoulders remained straight.
Jackson recognized the walk before he recognized the face.
“No,” he whispered.
The man stopped beneath the broken sign.
“Hello, son.””
Jackson's world seemed to stop.
His father, Thomas Reed, looked at him with the same pale eyes Jackson saw every morning in the mirror.
For a moment, Jackson was seventeen again, standing in a doorway while his father told him he would never amount to anything.
Then he was twenty-eight, watching the coffin lowered into the ground.
Now the dead man stood twenty feet away.
“You're supposed to be dead,” Jackson said.
Thomas gave a small, humorless smile.
“So was Daniel.””
Ryder moved beside Jackson.
“Where is he?””
Thomas glanced toward the garage.
“Inside.””
“Alive?””
“For now.””
Jackson took a step forward.
“What did you do to him?””
Thomas's expression hardened.
“Everything I did, I did to protect this family.””
Jackson laughed once, without humor.
“You burned down a building and left my best friend to die?””
“I didn't leave him to die.””
“You locked the door!””
Thomas's jaw tightened.
“I locked it because Daniel had evidence that would destroy people much more powerful than you understand.””
“Then why didn't you let him out?””
“Because Victor had already arrived. If Daniel escaped, he would have exposed all of us.””
Jackson stared at his father.
All of us.
The words were worse than a confession.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Who was paying you?””
Thomas looked at him.
“You always were the sensible one, Marcus. That's why I never understood why you followed Jackson.””
“Answer the question.””
Thomas ignored him.
Instead, he looked at Cole.
“And you. Still chasing after your sister?””
Cole went pale.
“You told me she was dead.””
“She was supposed to be.””
Ryder lunged.
Jackson caught him before he reached Thomas.
“Not yet.””
Thomas smiled faintly.
“Still trying to control everyone, Jackson. Your mother used to say that was your greatest weakness.””
“Don't you dare mention my mother.””
For the first time, Thomas's smile disappeared.
“Your mother knew what I was doing. She knew I had debts. She knew I had made mistakes. But she also knew that I was trying to keep my family safe.””
“You made your family afraid of you.””
Thomas looked away.
For one brief moment, he appeared old.
Then he reached inside his coat and produced a photograph.
It showed Denise Carter standing beside an open doorway.
Behind her was a man in a hospital gown.
Daniel.
“He's inside,” Thomas said.
“And if you want him to walk out alive, you'll listen to me.””
Jackson stared at the photograph.
“What do you want?””
“The ledger.””
“We don't have it.””
Thomas's eyes narrowed.
“Don't lie to me, son.””
“I'm not.””
Thomas glanced toward the road.
“Then you won't mind if I make a phone call.””
He pulled out his phone and pressed a number.
Inside the garage, Jackson heard a sharp cry.
Denise.
Then Daniel's voice, weak but unmistakable.
“Jackson! Don't give him the book!””
A gunshot cracked through the night.
Jackson rushed toward the doorway.
Thomas raised his pistol.
“Stop!””
Jackson froze.
Thomas's hand trembled, but the weapon remained pointed at his chest.
“You've spent your whole life disappointing me,” Thomas said quietly.
“Don't make your final mistake tonight.””
Jackson stared into the eyes of the man who had taught him how to ride, how to fight, and how to hide his fear.
Then he looked past him, toward the dark interior of the garage.
“Dad,” Jackson said, his voice breaking, “what happened to the man I thought you were?””
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For the first time, Thomas Reed had no answer.
And from somewhere inside the building, Daniel began screaming.
