Chapter 4: Reagan’s Offer
Elias drove me back to the house before dawn.
I wanted my passport and birth certificate, but Reagan was waiting on the porch with her son and Detective Cole.
“I warned you not to return,” Reagan said.
I held up my phone.
“Camden Dennis is alive.”
Cole stepped forward.
“Hand over anything you removed from the storage property.”
“That unit belonged to my father.”
“Your father was declared d!ead.”
“By whom?”
Reagan folded her arms.
“By a physician, a registrar, and a grieving wife.
Do you intend to accuse all of us?”
“I intend to ask why he is living as Calvin Drake.”
Her son turned sharply toward her.
“Who told her that?”
Reagan’s eyes remained on me.
“You have no idea what condition Camden was in.”
“Then let me see him.”
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
“You told me he was d!ead.”
“And you believed me because part of you was relieved.”
The words struck so precisely that I stepped back.
Elias moved between us.
“That was cruel.”
“It was accurate,” Reagan replied.
“Finland left this family long before prison.”
“You put me there!”
“You signed a confession.”
“My father signed it because you lied to him.”
For the first time, Cole’s hand moved toward his jacket.
“Be careful what you accuse people of without evidence.”
I raised my phone.
“I have Camden’s recording.”
Reagan’s son grabbed her arm.
“You said I took everything.”
“Be quiet, Derek.”
His name landed between us at last.
Derek released her and stared at the ground.
Reagan walked down the steps.
“Give me the recording, Finland.
I’ll transfer the house to you and deposit fifty thousand dollars into any account you choose.”
“You threw me out yesterday.”
“Today I’m offering you a future.”
“You’re offering me my silence.”
“I’m offering you more than a former prisoner usually receives.”
I took one step toward her.
“Let me see Dad.”
“No.”
“Then there’s no deal.”
Reagan’s face hardened.
“Warren.”
Cole pulled a folded paper from his pocket.
“Finland Dennis, this is a temporary protection order.
You are not to enter the house or contact Mrs.
Dennis.”
“You brought that before you knew I was coming.”
“We knew you might become unstable.”
A black sedan stopped at the curb.
A silver-haired woman stepped out carrying a leather case.
Reagan exhaled.
“Mara, tell her this house is legally mine.”
Mara Voss studied the order in Cole’s hand, then looked at me.
“Do not answer another question.”
“I didn’t hire you.”
“No, Reagan did.”
Reagan’s chin lifted.
“Then advise your client.”
Mara opened her case and removed a business card.
She pressed it into my palm while appearing to straighten the papers in my hand.
“Leave the property,” she said loudly.
“You cannot win this argument here.”
Cole smiled.
“Finally, someone sensible.”
Elias led me toward his truck.
Reagan called after us.
“By noon, Briarwood will have orders never to admit you.”
I opened Mara’s card after we turned the corner.
May you like
An address had been written across the back.
Beneath it were six words: *Your father is alive—for now.*
