Chapter 9 - THE FATHER WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
The farmhouse lights were off.
Ethan stood outside the home where he had spent summers as a child.
Claire remained beside him.
Mara and four officers spread around the property.
Eleanor stayed in the police vehicle.
Ethan knocked.
Nothing.
“Dad?”
Still nothing.
He pushed the door.
Unlocked.
The kitchen smelled like coffee.
Fresh.
Claire touched the mug on the counter.
“Warm.”
Someone had been there minutes earlier.
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Mara raised her weapon.
“Police.”
A man appeared at the top of the staircase.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
Bearded.
Ethan stopped breathing.
The man looked at him.
His face collapsed.
“Ethan.”
Ethan did not move.
Claire had seen photographs of Richard Blackwood for years.
She recognized him instantly.
Alive.
Older.
But alive.
Ethan finally whispered.
“Dad?”
Richard descended one step.
Then another.
Ethan crossed the room.
Neither man spoke.
Richard wrapped his arms around his son.
Ethan broke.
Three years of anger disappeared in seconds.
“You were alive.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You were alive.”
“I know.”
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
Ethan pushed away.
“Why?”
Richard looked toward the windows.
“Because Julian had people everywhere.”
“Because Harold controlled the board.”
“Because your mother was compromised.”
“And because I was a coward.”
Ethan stared at him.
Richard looked at Claire.
“I owe you more than an apology.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“You let them frame me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I thought I had time to fix it.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
Richard lowered his head.
“I didn’t.”
Mara stepped closer.
“Mr. Blackwood, we need to move you.”
Richard nodded.
“Harold knows I’m here.”
“How?”
Richard looked at his son.
“I called him.”
Ethan stared.
“Why?”
“To make him come.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“You used yourself as bait.”
“Yes.”
Mara swore.
“You should have contacted police.”
“I didn’t know who was clean.”
“You do now.”
Richard looked at Mara.
“I hope so.”
Headlights appeared outside.
Three vehicles.
Mara shouted.
“Positions!”
The first SUV stopped near the barn.
The second blocked the driveway.
The third remained near the road.
Men emerged.
Then Harold Pierce stepped from the first vehicle.
Ethan stared through the curtain.
The man who had chaired his company for fifteen years.
The man who had attended every birthday.
Every funeral.
Every Christmas.
The man who was apparently his biological father.
Harold walked toward the house.
“Richard!”
No answer.
“I know you’re inside.”
Richard looked at Ethan.
“Stay back.”
Ethan laughed in disbelief.
“You don’t get to return from the dead and start giving me fatherly instructions.”
Despite everything, Richard almost smiled.
Then Harold shouted again.
“Richard.”
“You can end this.”
Richard opened the front door.
Mara tried to stop him.
He raised his hands.
“Harold.”
Harold looked older in the headlights.
More frightened.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Richard nodded.
“That seems to be a popular opinion.”
Harold’s jaw tightened.
“You have the ledger.”
“I do.”
Claire looked at Richard.
The missing ledger.
He had it.
Harold continued.
“Give it to me.”
“You leave Ethan out of this.”
Harold laughed.
“I have spent thirty-nine years unable to leave Ethan out of anything.”
Ethan stepped onto the porch.
Harold froze.
“Son.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“Don’t call me that.”
Harold looked wounded.
For one bizarre second, Claire believed the emotion was genuine.
Then it disappeared.
“You deserved to know.”
“You had thirty-nine years.”
“Richard wouldn’t allow it.”
Richard stepped forward.
“That’s a lie.”
“You begged me not to tell him.”
“When he was a child.”
“You continued lying.”
“So did Eleanor.”
“Where is Eleanor?”
Mara spoke.
“Safe.”
Harold smiled.
“She has never been safe.”
“Not from herself.”
A shot shattered the porch light.
Everyone dropped.
The bullet did not come from Harold’s men.
It came from the barn.
Harold turned.
“Julian.”
A second shot struck the side of Harold’s SUV.
Chaos erupted.
Police returned fire toward the empty barn window.
Harold ran toward the house.
Ethan stared.
“You brought him?”
“No!”
Another bullet hit the wall.
Richard shouted.
“Inside!”
They moved.
Harold collapsed behind the kitchen island.
Mara kept her weapon on him.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Harold laughed breathlessly.
“Detective, Julian wants me dead almost as much as he wants Richard.”
“Comforting.”
Claire looked out the rear window.
A shadow moved between trees.
Julian had survived the lake.
Of course he had.
Richard opened a hidden drawer.
He removed a thick leather ledger.
Claire stared.
“There it is.”
Richard handed it to her.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You keep it.”
“You’re the only one Julian hasn’t managed to predict.”
Claire almost laughed.
“That is a terrible reason.”
“It’s the best one I have.”
Then Eleanor walked through the back door.
Everyone turned.
Ethan stared.
“How did you get out of the police car?”
Eleanor ignored him.
She looked at Harold.
Hatred crossed her face.
Harold slowly stood.
“Eleanor.”
She slapped him.
Hard.
Mara nearly smiled.
Ethan did not.
Eleanor turned to Richard.
“You’re alive.”
Richard looked at her.
“Yes.”
For three years Eleanor had lived with the consequences of every decision.
Now the man she betrayed stood ten feet away.
She began crying.
“Richard…”
“Don’t.”
One word stopped her.
Harold stared at the ledger in Claire’s hands.
Julian fired again.
Glass shattered.
Then the lights went out.
In the darkness, someone grabbed Claire.
She screamed.
Ethan lunged toward her voice.
A door slammed.
When the emergency lights from the police vehicles swept through the kitchen, Claire was gone.
So was the ledger.
Ethan ran outside.
A motorcycle tore away through the trees.
Julian.
Ethan shouted her name.
“CLAIRE!”
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
Julian’s voice answered.
“Now you understand, Ethan.”
“Understand what?”
“You can have your wife back.”
Ethan stared into the darkness.
“For what?”
“The one thing Richard values more than the ledger.”
Ethan looked toward his father.
May you like
Julian continued.
“Richard himself.”
