Relieved.
Ray flipped it over.
Margaret’s handwriting.
May 18. The light still turns.
Ray stared.
What did that mean?
He searched the next album.
Another Maine trip.
Again.
Every May.
Ray had forgotten.
Margaret always said it was an annual professional conference.
Ray opened his laptop.
He searched the lighthouse.
West Quoddy Head.
Lubec, Maine.
The easternmost point in the continental United States.
The light still turns.
His phone rang.
Mara.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
He answered.
“Ray, we found something in your wife’s old bank records.”
“So did I.”
“What?”
“Maine.”
Silence.
Mara said, “How did you know?”
Ray closed his eyes.
“What did you find?”
“Every May from 2004 until 2013, Margaret withdrew cash in Bangor.”
The year she became too sick to travel.
Ray whispered, “She was seeing him.”
Mara did not answer.
“She was seeing Daniel.”
“Maybe.”
“For nine years.”
“Ray—”
“He was alive.”
The words felt impossible.
Then wonderful.
Then horrifying.
If Daniel had been alive until at least 2013, where had he been for the twenty years since his funeral?
And why had he never called his father?
Two days later, Ray stood on the Maine coast with the Atlantic wind pulling at his jacket.
Mara was beside him.
Chief Ward had wanted state investigators there.
Ray refused.
In the end, one federal team stayed several miles away while Ray and Mara drove into Lubec alone.
The lighthouse rose white and red against the gray sky.
Fog moved over the water.
Ray had brought the Mustang.
Mara called him insane for driving it nearly twelve hundred miles.
Ray told her the Mustang had waited twenty-nine years too.
They visited the old inn where Margaret had stayed.
The current owner remembered nothing.
But his mother did.
She was ninety-one.
Her name was Evelyn Shore.
When Ray showed her Margaret’s photograph, Evelyn’s eyes widened.
“Oh.”
Ray leaned forward.
“You knew her?”
“Every spring.”
“Was she alone?”
Evelyn looked at him.
Then at Mara.
“No.”
Ray’s chest tightened.
“Who was with her?”
Evelyn studied his face.
“You’re Raymond.”
He froze.
“How do you know my name?”
The old woman’s eyes filled.
“Because he had your eyes.”
Ray’s knees weakened.
Mara grabbed his arm.
“Daniel?”
Evelyn nodded.
Ray could not speak.
Evelyn reached across the table and took his hand.
“He called himself David here.”
“Where is he?”
Evelyn’s expression changed.
“I don’t know.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Ten years ago.”
Ray’s hope cracked.
“Before Margaret died?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“After her final visit, he left.”
“Where?”
“He didn’t say.”
Ray looked toward the fogged window.
Twenty-nine years.
His son had lived.
His wife had known.
Mara asked, “Did he leave anything?”
Evelyn hesitated.
Then stood.
“Wait.”
She disappeared upstairs.
Five minutes later, she returned carrying a small wooden box.
She placed it in front of Ray.
“He told me if a man named Raymond Carter ever came here carrying an old silver watch, I should give him this.”
Ray stared at the box.
His hands would not move.
Mara whispered, “Ray.”
He opened it.
Inside was a cassette tape.
A key.
And a photograph.
Daniel.
Older.
Gray beginning at his temples.
Standing on the Maine shore.
Alive.
Ray touched the photograph with one finger.
On the back were four words.
Dad, forgive me someday.
Evelyn found an old cassette player.
Ray pushed the tape inside.
Pressed Play.
Static.
Then a voice.
Older than Ray remembered.
But unmistakable.
“Dad.”
Ray covered his mouth.
Mara turned away, crying.
Daniel’s recorded voice continued.
“If you’re hearing this, then Mom is gone, and you found the trail she promised she would never show you unless it was safe.”
Ray shut his eyes.
“I know you’re angry.”
A weak laugh came through the tape.
“You should be.”
Ray cried openly now.
“I wanted to come home every day.”
Daniel paused.
“Every single day.”
Wind hissed through the old recording.
“But if I came back, they would have killed you.”
Ray whispered, “Who?”
As if the tape could hear him.
Daniel answered.
“Not Pierce. Not Dugan. Not even Voss.”
Ray opened his eyes.
“The person behind everything was someone none of us suspected.”
Mara turned toward the tape.
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“Dad, you need to understand something about the night I disappeared.”
Static.
“I was supposed to meet Agent Cross.”
A pause.
“But someone else arrived first.”
Ray held his breath.
“Someone who knew exactly where I would be.”
The tape clicked.
Then Daniel spoke the name.
Ray stopped breathing.
“Chief Elena Ward.”
Mara stared at him.
“No.”
The tape continued.
“She wasn’t chief then. She was twenty-nine. County prosecutor’s investigator.”
Ray’s mind raced.
Elena Ward.
The woman who had arrived at the roadside.
The woman who ordered Mercer disarmed.
The woman who had helped reopen Daniel’s case.
The woman standing at the center of everything.
Daniel’s voice continued.
“She told me she was working for Helen Cross.”
Mara whispered, “Was she?”
“No,” Daniel said on the tape.
“She was working for Malcolm Voss.”
Ray reached for his phone.
No signal.
The inn sat near the edge of town.
Mara was already moving toward the window.
Daniel continued.
“Ward arranged the false death report. She convinced Thomas Mercer that it was the only way to keep me alive.”
Ray whispered, “Why?”
The tape answered.
“Because she needed me alive.”
A pause.
“Voss’s network lost millions when I disappeared.”
Ray looked at Mara.
“She spent years trying to find the second film.”
Mara’s face went white.
Chief Ward had known about the watch.
Ward had approved Ray accompanying the storage search.
Ward had been present when the film was discovered.
Ward had controlled access.
Daniel’s voice continued.
“Dad, if Ward is still in law enforcement when you hear this, she has spent years cleaning her history.”
Ray remembered the roadside.
The three SUVs.
How fast Ward arrived.
Too fast.
Mara whispered, “She didn’t respond to your alert.”
Ray looked at her.
“She was waiting for it.”
The realization hit both of them at once.
Badge 742 had not only been a trigger for the Attorney General.
It had been a trigger for Elena Ward.
She had reactivated Daniel’s badge number.
She had given it to Cole Mercer.
Not to honor Daniel.
Not by accident.
To flush out the watch.
Cole Mercer had not randomly found Ray.
He had been sent.
Ray stood.
“Call the federal team.”
Mara grabbed her phone.
No signal.
The inn’s front door opened.
A bell chimed.
Slow footsteps crossed the wooden floor.
Evelyn’s face changed.
Mara reached beneath her jacket.
A woman’s voice came from the hallway.
“You should finish the tape.”
Chief Elena Ward stepped into the room.
She was holding a pistol.
Nobody moved.
Ward looked tired.
Not frightened.
Not frantic.
Almost relieved.
Mara’s hand remained beneath her jacket.
Ward shook her head.
“Don’t.”
Mara froze.
Ward looked at Ray.
“You made it farther than I expected.”
Ray stared at her.
“Did you send Mercer?”
“Yes.”
The simple answer was colder than denial.
“He stole my watch.”
“He was supposed to photograph it.”
“He threatened me.”
“I underestimated what he had become.”