Chapter 3 - The Ledger and the Forged Signature
Robert’s face was twisted in anger on the grainy security monitor. He pointed his flashlight at the diner’s neon 'CLOSED' sign, then kicked the glass door.
“Why is your brother here at midnight?” Daniel asked, instinctively shifting his crutches to stand between me and the hallway.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
But I did know. Ten minutes ago, before Daniel had shown me the postcard, I had texted Robert: Someone is here asking about June.
I had thought I was doing the right thing. Robert was the head of the family now. But seeing June’s diary, reading that Robert had forced her into a car forty-three years ago, twisted my stomach into agonizing knots.
“Daniel, take Noah and go into the pantry,” I whispered, grabbing the cedar box and shoving it back into the drawer. “Lock the heavy metal door from the inside. Do not come out until I say it’s safe.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Daniel said.
“He’s my brother. I can handle him. Just protect your son.”
Daniel hesitated, then limped out to the booth, scooped his sleeping boy into his arms, and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the heavy click of the pantry deadbolt.
I walked to the front of the diner and unlocked the door.
The winter wind whipped inside, bringing Robert with it. He brushed snow from his expensive cashmere coat, his eyes darting around the empty diner.
“Where is he?” Robert demanded, his voice booming in the quiet room.
“Who?” I asked, keeping my distance.
“The scam artist asking about June. You texted me, Claire. Don’t play dumb. Where is he?”
“He left,” I said smoothly. “He just wanted a free meal. Told some crazy story about a yellow plate, realized I wasn't buying it, and walked out into the snow.”
Robert stopped scanning the room. He stared at me, his jaw clenching. He walked over to the booth where Daniel and Noah had been sitting.
He looked down at the table.
Two bowls of soup. Two empty water glasses.
“He walked out?” Robert asked softly. “Without his crutches?”
I froze. I had forgotten to hide Daniel’s extra crutch leaning against the vinyl seat.
Robert smiled, a cold, empty expression I hadn't seen since we were teenagers. “You always were a terrible liar, Claire. Just like Dad.”
He walked past me, heading straight for the kitchen swinging doors.
“Robert, stop!” I grabbed his arm.
He shoved me backward. I hit the counter hard, knocking over a stack of menus.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Robert snapped, looming over me. “That man is not June’s son. June died in a car accident in New Mexico thirty years ago. I identified the body myself.”
I stared up at him. “What are you talking about? June died six years ago.”
“That’s what this grifter told you to get to the family money,” Robert sneered. He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded, yellowed document. He threw it on the counter.
It was a death certificate from the State of New Mexico.
Deceased: June Parker. Date of Death: October 14, 1996.
I looked at the document, my mind spinning. The official seal was there. The signature was real.
If June died in 1996, who had raised Daniel? Who had died six years ago?
“I paid a private investigator twenty years ago to track her down,” Robert said, his voice softening slightly. “I wanted to bring her home, Claire. But I was too late. She was gone. This man in my diner is a fraud.”
I looked at the certificate again.
Then I looked at the signature of the authorizing medical examiner at the bottom.
Dr. Arthur Vance.
My breath stopped.
Arthur Vance wasn’t a medical examiner in New Mexico.
He was Robert’s father-in-law.
Before I could speak, the diner’s rotary phone behind the counter began to ring, a shrill, piercing sound in the dead of night.
Robert glared at the phone. “Don’t answer it.”
I reached over and picked up the receiver.
“Claire’s Diner,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Claire?” a woman’s voice whispered through the static. “It’s Margaret. Your mother’s sister. I saw Robert’s car outside the diner.”
May you like
“Aunt Margaret? It’s midnight, why are you—”
“Listen to me carefully,” Margaret interrupted, her voice frantic. “If Robert knows the boy is there, you have to get him out. Now. Robert isn't June's brother.”
Related Stories
