I had never met the man.

My mother had mentioned him once or twice.

He had moved overseas years before I was born.

Grandma sat down again.

"Ray worked for the airline's corporate security department."

Michael stared at her.

"My father never mentioned him."

"Because Ray was family."

Grandma looked sick.

"Thomas trusted him."

Lena pulled out a notebook.

"Is Raymond Cole still living?"

"As far as I know."

I searched on my phone.

The first result surprised me.

Raymond Cole had not moved overseas permanently.

He had returned to the United States twelve years earlier.

And he lived in Orange County.

Less than two hours away.

Grandma stared at the screen.

"He told me he was in New Zealand."

"When?" Lena asked.

"Last Christmas."

"You still speak to him?"

"Once or twice a year."

The betrayal in her face was almost worse than anger.

The recording continued.

Grandpa's breathing was louder now.

"Ray says management wants me to sign a statement saying I misunderstood what I heard."

"I told him no."

"He says if I make this public, people will lose jobs and pensions."

"He says I'm being selfish."

Grandma whispered, "Thomas would have hated that."

Then came the line that silenced the room.

"If anything happens to me, Ray knows where I'm going."

The tape clicked.

A final few seconds remained.

Grandpa's voice became softer.

"Evie, I'm sorry."

"I thought telling the truth would be simple."

"I was wrong."

Then the recording ended.

Grandma did not cry.

She simply stared at the blank laptop screen.

Lena closed it gently.

"Mrs. Walsh, I need to ask a difficult question."

Grandma nodded.

"Did Raymond ever help search for Thomas?"

A bitter smile touched Grandma's mouth.

"He led the search."

Michael whispered, "Oh, God."

Lena's expression hardened.

"Then we need to talk to him before he knows we have this tape."

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I almost ignored it.

Then a second message appeared.

THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING.

A photograph loaded beneath the words.

It showed Grandma sitting in the conference room.

Taken through the narrow glass panel in the door.

Someone was inside the building.

After the second recording stopped, nobody spoke for nearly a minute.

Michael stared at the table.

"My father tried to help him."

Grandma looked at him.

"Yes."

"All these years I thought he stayed quiet because he was involved."

"He did stay quiet."

Michael nodded.

"I know."

Grandma's voice softened slightly.

"Two things can be true."

Michael looked at her.

"He can have helped Thomas that night and still have failed him afterward."

The words hit Michael hard.

But he nodded.

"That's fair."

Grandma folded her hands.

"People want the past to be simple."

"Hero or coward."

"Truth or lie."

"Sometimes a person does one brave thing and then spends twenty years being afraid of what it cost."

I realized she was not speaking only about Patrick.

She was speaking about herself too.

She had avoided airplanes.

Avoided 34A.

Avoided asking certain questions.

Silence had not belonged to one person.

It had infected everyone around the mystery.

Lena broke the quiet.

"The difference is that now we have records."

Grandma looked at the cassette.

"Then let's keep going until there are no more locked boxes."

Chapter 12 - THE MAN IN THE HALLWAY

Grant was out of the room before anyone else reacted.

Lena locked the conference-room door behind him.

Michael stood and moved between Grandma and the glass panel.

I pulled the blinds down.

Grandma remained seated.

She looked more angry than afraid.

"I'm tired of being watched."

Lena held up a hand.

"Stay away from the door."

The hallway outside remained silent.

Thirty seconds passed.

Then a minute.

Then Grant called Lena's phone.

She answered on speaker.

"We found someone near the east stairwell."

Grandma leaned forward.

"Who?"

"Male, sixties."

Michael looked at her.

"Ray?"

Lena asked Grant for a description.

Gray hair.

Tan jacket.

Wire-frame glasses.

Grandma closed her eyes.

"That's him."

Lena's face sharpened.

"Do not approach him alone."

Grant said local officers were already moving in.

We waited.

Minutes later, Lena left the room.

When she returned, her expression was controlled but tense.

"Raymond Cole is in custody for questioning."

Grandma exhaled slowly.

"Did he have a phone?"

"Yes."

"Were the pictures on it?"

"We're obtaining legal authorization to examine the device."

Grandma nodded.

She had spent enough years around uncertainty to recognize a careful answer.

An hour later, Raymond agreed to speak with investigators.

Grandma insisted on seeing him.

Lena refused at first.

"This is an active interview."

"Then let me watch from another room."

Lena considered it.

Eventually she agreed.

We sat behind one-way glass while Raymond entered the interview room.

He was seventy-five now.

Smaller than I expected.

His gray hair was neatly combed.

His hands shook when he sat down.

Grandma stared at him.

"He looks old."

There was no sympathy in her voice.

Lena's partner began the interview.

"Mr. Cole, why were you at this office tonight?"

Raymond looked at the table.

"I came to see Evelyn."

Grandma's eyebrows rose.

Grant asked, "How did you know she was here?"

"I followed them."