Ray caught it.
For five seconds, they were young men again.
Then Ray’s phone rang.
Chief Ward.
He answered.
“Ray.”
Her voice was different.
Urgent.
“What happened?”
“We need you here.”
“Why?”
A pause.
“Pierce is talking.”
Ray closed his eyes.
“What did he say?”
“He said Daniel’s crash wasn’t an accident.”
Ray gripped the phone.
“He admitted it?”
“No.”
Ray waited.
Ward continued.
“He says Daniel was never in the car.”
Ray drove the Mustang to headquarters himself.
Mara met him at the entrance.
Her face told him Pierce had said more.
“What does that mean?”
She did not answer until they were inside.
“He claims Daniel survived.”
Ray stopped walking.
People moved around them.
Phones rang.
Doors opened.
Somewhere, a printer started.
The world continued as if Mara had not just shattered physics.
Ray stared at her.
“No.”
“Ray—”
“I saw his body.”
“No. You saw a sealed casket.”
He stepped backward.
“No.”
“The medical examiner’s report was signed by Dr. Samuel Greene.”
“I know.”
“Greene died in 2003.”
Ray waited.
Mara’s voice lowered.
“He was on Daniel’s list.”
Ray felt the hallway tilt.
“No.”
“We exhumed Daniel’s grave this morning.”
Ray’s face twisted.
“You what?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You opened my son’s grave?”
“We had probable cause to question identity.”
Ray’s hands clenched.
“Without telling me?”
“We were afraid Pierce might be manipulating us.”
“And?”
Mara’s eyes filled.
Ray already knew.
“What was in the coffin?”
She whispered.
“Not Daniel.”
Ray sat down on the nearest bench.
The hallway disappeared around him.
Mara crouched in front of him.
“The remains belonged to another male, approximately Daniel’s age.”
Ray stared at the floor.
“What are you saying?”
“We don’t know.”
“Say it.”
“We don’t know if Daniel died that night.”
Ray lifted his head.
For twenty-nine years, grief had been a fact.
Now even grief had become uncertain.
That was somehow worse.
“What did Pierce say?”
Mara stood.
“He says Thomas Mercer pulled Daniel from the car before Sheriff Dugan arrived.”
“That was in Thomas’s letter.”
“Yes.”
“But Thomas said he was taken away and the car burned.”
“Pierce says that part was false.”
Ray stared.
“Why would Thomas lie?”
“To protect Daniel.”
A door opened.
Chief Ward stepped out.
“Pierce wants to speak to you.”
Mara immediately said, “Absolutely not.”
Ray stood.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“Ray—”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Chief Ward looked at Mara.
Mara closed her eyes.
“Five minutes.”
Nolan Pierce looked smaller than Ray remembered.
Age had hollowed his cheeks.
His hands shook.
His white hair had thinned until the scalp beneath it showed pink under fluorescent light.
But his eyes were the same.
Ray remembered those eyes standing on his porch in the rain.
Ray.
One word.
Twenty-nine years.
Pierce looked at him across the interview table.
“You got old.”
Ray sat.
“So did you.”
Pierce almost smiled.
“I wondered whether you’d ever find it.”
“The watch?”
“Yes.”
“Daniel gave it to me.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“Everybody knew you never took that damn thing off.”
Ray stared.
“Where is my son?”
Pierce’s face changed.
There.
Fear.
Even now.
Ray leaned forward.
“Where is Daniel?”
Pierce looked toward the camera in the corner.
“They listening?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He swallowed.
“Then maybe they’ll finally understand.”
“Understand what?”
Pierce leaned closer.
“Daniel didn’t disappear because we were trying to kill him.”
Ray’s jaw tightened.
“He disappeared because the FBI wanted him dead.”
Mara’s voice came through the speaker.
“That’s enough.”
Ray lifted one hand toward the camera.
He wanted Pierce to continue.
Pierce did.
“Daniel realized the local corruption was small compared with what Voss was doing.”
“Malcolm Voss?”
“Your prosecutor’s daddy.”
Ray stared.
“Voss was laundering confiscated money through federal asset seizures. Millions.”
Pierce licked dry lips.
“Daniel’s undercover operation got too close.”
“So you helped him?”
Pierce laughed bitterly.
“No.”
At least the man still possessed some honesty.
“I was dirty.”
Pierce looked directly at Ray.
“I took money. Fixed impounds. Protected Dugan.”
Ray’s stomach turned.
“But Daniel caught me.”
“And?”
“And instead of arresting me, he offered me a deal.”
Ray frowned.
Pierce continued.
“He said help him expose Voss, or go down with everyone else.”
“Did you?”
“At first.”
Pierce looked at his hands.
“Then Voss found out.”
The room felt airless.
“The night of the crash, Thomas and I were supposed to get Daniel to Helen Cross.”
Pierce swallowed.
“Dugan intercepted us.”
“What happened?”
“Daniel ran.”
Ray stopped breathing.
Pierce looked up.
“He was hurt, but alive.”
“Where did he go?”
“Thomas got him out.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true.”
Pierce leaned forward desperately.
“Thomas told everyone Daniel died in the fire. He even made me believe it for years.”
Ray’s heart pounded.
“When did you learn the truth?”
“2004.”
The year Thomas went to see Margaret.
Ray whispered, “What happened in 2004?”
Pierce closed his eyes.
“Your wife.”
Ray stared.
“What about her?”
“She came to me.”
Ray felt cold.
“Margaret?”
“Yes.”
“What did she want?”
Pierce looked almost afraid to answer.
“She told me Daniel was alive.”
The door flew open.
Mara entered.
“No more.”
Ray stood so quickly the chair fell.
“Where?”
Pierce looked at him.
“She wouldn’t say.”
“Where is my son?”
“I don’t know.”
Ray slammed both palms onto the table.
“WHERE IS MY SON?”
Pierce flinched.
“I DON’T KNOW!”
The words crashed against the walls.
Ray stood trembling.
Pierce’s eyes filled.
“She said he could never come home.”
“Why?”
“Because Voss would find him.”
“Voss died twelve years ago.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t Daniel come back?”
Pierce looked toward Mara.
Then Ray.
And whispered:
“Maybe because Voss wasn’t the one he was hiding from.”
That night, Ray sat alone at his kitchen table.
The house was dark except for the light above the stove.
Margaret’s chair remained across from him.
He had never replaced it.
He placed her old photo albums on the table.
Twenty-nine years.
He searched every picture taken after Daniel’s supposed death.
Birthdays.
Christmas.
Trips.
Margaret standing beside Niagara Falls.
Margaret at a library fundraiser.
Margaret on the porch holding a mug.
Nothing.
Then Ray noticed something.
A photograph from 2007.
Margaret standing in front of a lighthouse on the Maine coast.
Ray had not gone on that trip.
She told him it was a librarians’ conference in Portland.
In the photograph, her smile was different.
Not happy exactly.