M. CROSS
Gabriel went pale.
“What?”
“My father mentioned that name once.”
“Who is M. Cross?”
“I don't know.”
Before they could investigate, headlights appeared outside.
A vehicle stopped beside the storage building.
Another followed.
Then another.
Gabriel extinguished the light.
Footsteps approached.
Three men entered.
Eleanor recognized the man in front.
Victor Hale.
Even at seventy-one, he carried himself like someone accustomed to being obeyed.
He looked at the open boxes.
Then at Eleanor.
For a moment, his expression was almost sad.
“Eleanor,” he said.
She stepped forward.
“You killed my father.”
Victor did not answer.
“You destroyed my name.”
Still nothing.
“You took my brother.”
Victor smiled faintly.
“You've been away too long.”
Gabriel stepped between them.
Victor looked at him.
“Samuel's son.”
Gabriel clenched his fists.
“You killed him.”
“No.”
“You threatened him.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed his life.”
Victor sighed.
“Samuel destroyed his own life by refusing to understand how the world works.”
Eleanor felt anger rising inside her.
“What happened to Daniel?”
Victor's smile disappeared.
“You really don't know?”
“Tell me.”
“He made a choice.”
“What choice?”
“He chose the wrong side.”
Victor turned toward the boxes.
“You should have left the past buried.”
Eleanor looked around.
The three men had blocked the entrance.
There was nowhere to go.
Then Gabriel whispered:
“Eleanor.”
She looked at him.
He pointed toward the back wall.
There was a narrow service door.
The key still hung from his hand.
They ran.
One of the men shouted.
A gunshot cracked through the building.
Eleanor felt something strike the wall beside her.
They pushed through the door and ran into the darkness.
They crossed the parking lot, climbed a fence, and disappeared into the trees.
Behind them, Victor Hale stood in the doorway.
He did not chase them.
He only watched.
Because he knew something Eleanor did not.
The documents they had taken were not the most dangerous thing in the building.
The most dangerous thing was still missing.
They hid at an old farmhouse belonging to Gabriel's aunt.
At midnight, Eleanor spread the documents across the kitchen table.
She found a pattern.
Every major transfer had been approved by someone using the initials M.C.
Gabriel searched the old newspapers.
Then he stopped.
“Eleanor.”
“What?”
“Look.”
He placed an article in front of her.
Twenty-eight years earlier, a woman named Margaret Cross had been hired as assistant director of the Mercer Foundation.
She had worked directly under Eleanor.
Eleanor remembered her.
Margaret had been quiet.
Helpful.
Loyal.
At least, Eleanor had thought so.
The article said Margaret disappeared shortly after the scandal.
Eleanor felt a chill.
“Could she be M. Cross?”
Gabriel nodded.
“But where is she?”
They searched old records until morning.
Then Eleanor found an address.
A small town two hundred miles away.
They drove before sunrise.
The woman living at the address was seventy years old.
She opened the door.
Her hair was white.
Her hands shook.
But Eleanor recognized her immediately.
“Margaret.”
The woman closed her eyes.
“You shouldn't have come.”
“Did you help Victor Hale?”
Margaret began crying.
“No.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Margaret stepped aside.
“Come in.”
Her house was filled with old books and photographs.
On the wall was a picture of Daniel.
Eleanor stopped.
“You knew he was alive.”
Margaret nodded.
“I knew.”
“Where is he?”
Margaret sat down.
“He changed his name.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor wanted him dead.”
“Where?”
Margaret looked at Gabriel.
“Your father knew.”
Gabriel's face tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“Samuel and Daniel worked together for years.”
“Where?”
Margaret reached beneath the table and pulled out a letter.
“He's in Montana.”
Eleanor's heart raced.
“Is he alive?”
Margaret nodded.
“He's been alive all this time.”
Eleanor took the letter.
Her brother's handwriting was unmistakable.
She opened it.
Ellie,
If you're reading this, then they failed to bury everything.