PART 4-“After spending the entire summer with me, my grandchildren returned home, but while I was stripping my grandson’s bed, I discovered something concealed under his mattress that caused my hands to tremble.

Mara lifted Evie into her arms.
I picked up the green ledger.
Thomas descended one step at a time.
The beam from his flashlight moved across the wall.
“There is no reason for anyone to be frightened,” he said.
“Your father made mistakes.”
“I came to help you understand them.”
Michael whispered, “The hidden door leads outside.”
“How do you know?”
“That is how I entered.”
“Take Mara and Evie.”
“What about you?”
I slid the black key from the ledger.
“I’m going to Calder Street.”
Thomas reached the bottom of the stairs.
His light swept toward us.
In his other hand, he held my father’s old revolver.
“No,” he said calmly.
“You are going to give me the ledger.”
THE SHOT IN THE DARK

Michael swung the crowbar at the basement light fixture.
Glass exploded.
Thomas fired.
The sound crushed the room.
Evie screamed.
Mara dropped behind the furnace with her daughter beneath her.
I felt Michael pull me toward the hidden doorway.
“Run.”
We stumbled through the narrow passage.
A second shot struck the wall behind us.
The bullet sent brick dust across my face.
Michael pushed open an exterior hatch concealed beneath the back porch.
Rain hit us.
Mara climbed out holding Evie.
I followed with the ledger beneath my coat.
Michael emerged last and slammed the hatch.
“My car is in the alley,” he said.
“Thomas will hear it.”

“He already knows where we are going.”
We ran through the rain.
Michael’s car waited beside the fence with the engine running.
He had planned an escape before entering the house.
That frightened me almost as much as Thomas’s gun.
Mara and Evie climbed into the back.
I took the passenger seat.
As Michael pulled away, Thomas appeared at the end of the alley.
He did not shoot again.
He stood in the rain and watched us leave.
“Why is he letting us go?” I asked.
Michael looked in the mirror.
“Because whatever is behind door 317 matters more than the ledger.”
My phone rang.
The screen displayed my mother’s name.
I answered.
“Caroline,” she whispered, “do not go to the warehouse.”
“How do you know?”

“Thomas called me.”
“He has a gun.”
“I know.”
“Then call the police.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
My mother began to cry.
“Because Daniel Bell did not die in that fire.”
Mara leaned forward from the back seat.
“What did she say?”
I put the call on speaker.
My mother continued.
“Daniel survived.”

“Your father paid him to disappear.”
“Thomas found him six months ago.”
“Where is he?” Mara demanded.
There was a long silence.
Then my mother said, “Behind the green door.”