Chapter 9 - The Girl Who Kept the Secret
Wren had been fourteen when Robert gave her the locket. "He said if grown-ups started acting weird, I should remember where we used to catch tadpoles," she told us. "I thought he meant our old picnic place."
"He did," I said. "The shallow creek below Gate Nine."
Marisol studied the little map. A red line ran from the pumping station to a drainage tunnel, then south toward the homes along Miller Creek.
"If industrial waste entered this system," she said, "it could reach drinking wells all over the valley."
Wren looked at me. "Is that why Grandpa died?"
"I don't know yet, sweetheart."
"You always say that when the answer's bad."
She wasn't wrong.
We moved Wren to a rented cabin under Marisol's name. For the first time since the dock, I let myself hug her without thinking about escape routes. She smelled like rain and the cinnamon gum she chewed when she was nervous.
"Dad didn't want you to die," she whispered.
"He pushed the chair."
"I know. But he was scared. Stacey kept saying if he backed out, they'd take me."
My stomach turned. "Who is they?"
"Mr. Vale. And Sheriff Calder. They came to our house last week. Dad shouted that he'd never hurt you. Mr. Vale said, 'Then choose which one of them gets hurt.'"
Fear didn't excuse what Daniel had done. It changed the shape of the question I needed answered.
That night, Marisol received a call from an old contact at the state lab. A chemical sample she'd collected years ago matched waste associated with Vale Development's demolition business. He was willing to testify, but only with fresh chain-of-custody evidence.
"We need samples from the actual outflow," Marisol said.
"Gate Nine," I answered.
A knock sounded at the cabin door. Three slow taps, then two fast ones. Wren went white.
"That's Dad's knock," she whispered.
May you like
I approached the peephole. Daniel stood outside in the rain, blood darkening one sleeve.
And behind him, somebody raised a pistol.
