Chapter 4 - The Locked Drawer

I took the note to Ruth. She photographed it, bagged it, and asked whether anyone had keys to my house.

“Emily. My neighbor June. That's all.”

“And Daniel?”

“No.”

Ruth lifted an eyebrow. “Change the locks anyway.”

She located the redevelopment project's archived case number and the name of its original risk manager, a man named Arthur Keene. He had retired three states away. While we waited for him to return a call, I searched Thomas's old desk.

I hadn't opened the bottom drawer in years. It contained tax receipts, a broken watch, and Emily's drawings from elementary school. Beneath a false wooden panel, my fingers found a thin leather notebook.

Thomas's handwriting filled the pages. He kept dates, measurements, and the names of workers who reported unsafe support beams. On the final page, one sentence was underlined three times.

IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, FIND ELEANOR PRICE.

I didn't recognize the name.

That evening Emily stopped by and found me staring at the notebook.

“Mom, you look exhausted.”

“I'm fine.”

“You always say that.” She touched my bare head gently. “Treatment is hard enough without all this wedding stuff.”

I almost showed her the warning note. Then she told me Daniel had booked a weekend getaway for us after my next appointment. He said I deserved rest.

“Has he asked you about Dad lately?” I said.

She hesitated. “Actually, yes. He wanted to know where Dad kept his records. Why?”

A cold line ran through my chest.

“Did you tell him?”

“Only that his desk is in the study.”

After she left, I checked the study window. Its latch was bent.

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When I opened the drawer again, the notebook was gone.

I remembered Thomas hiding birthday presents in that same desk because Emily never bothered to look there. One Christmas he had taped a tiny silver necklace beneath the middle drawer and pretended he'd forgotten her gift. When she discovered it, she laughed until she hiccupped. Standing in the study with the bent latch, I could almost hear that laugh. I promised myself I would not let whoever had entered our house steal those memories along with the notebook.