Chapter 15 - The Man in the Photograph
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Evan kept staring at the photograph.
I watched his face change.
Shock.
Hope.
Fear.
Anger.
All of it at once.
“No,” Richard whispered.
Evan turned.
“You see him too.”
Richard shook his head.
“That photograph is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because David died.”
“You told me he died.”
“He did.”
“Then explain this.”
Evan shoved the photograph toward him.
Richard barely looked at it.
“He may have been dead for years.”
“That's not an answer.”
The investigator took the photograph.
He examined it carefully.
“When was this taken?”
“The note says this morning.”
He looked at the image.
“Could be altered.”
“Then prove it,” Evan said.
The investigator handed it to his forensic technician.
“Analyze everything.”
I looked at the back.
There was another message.
Come alone if you want the truth.
Evan saw it.
“I’m going.”
“No,” I said.
“My father may be alive.”
“That's exactly why you shouldn't go alone.”
“He asked me to.”
“Or someone wants you isolated.”
Evan looked at me.
“I can't sit here.”
I understood.
Because if David was alive, every lie of the last twelve years had suddenly changed shape.
We returned to the warehouse.
The investigators reviewed footage from the portable camera.
They finally found the moment Victor escaped.
He hadn't run alone.
A second person had opened the rear exit.
The face was hidden.
But the body shape was clear.
“Male,” the investigator said.
“Tall.”
I stared.
“Richard?”
Richard looked at me.
“No.”
Evan shook his head.
“My father's height.”
The investigator looked at him.
“You think the man in the photograph helped Victor?”
“I think we don't know who anyone is anymore.”
Then the forensic technician entered.
“We ran the photograph.”
Everyone turned.
“And?”
“It’s genuine.”
Evan closed his eyes.
“David is alive.”
“Possibly.”
“What do you mean possibly?”
“The photograph is real. We confirmed the location.”
“Where?”
“Cedar Hill.”
The investigator frowned.
“There's an abandoned chapel there.”
Rachel spoke.
“My mother used to go there.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“She said David took her there once.”
The investigator immediately reached for his radio.
Then another phone rang.
This time it was mine.
No number.
I answered.
A woman spoke.
“Don't go to the chapel.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
“You don't understand what you're walking into.”
“Where is Samuel?”
Silence.
“Who is David?”
Another pause.
Then:
“He isn't the man you think he is.”
The line ended.
I stared at Evan.
“What?”
I told him.
He shook his head.
“Call back.”
I did.
Nothing.
Then a text arrived.
ONE HOUR.
CHAPEL.
COME WITH NO POLICE.
The investigator read it.
“We're going.”
I shook my head.
“They specifically said no police.”
“Exactly.”
We reached Cedar Hill forty minutes later.
The chapel stood at the edge of a forest.
Its windows were broken.
Its bell tower leaned slightly.
No lights.
No cars.
I felt an old familiar fear settle into my chest.
We entered.
The nave was empty.
Then a man's voice came from the altar.
“You shouldn't have come.”
Evan stopped.
The voice was older.
Weak.
But unmistakably familiar.
He whispered one word.
“Dad?”
A figure stepped from the shadows.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
A scar along his jaw.
Evan stopped breathing.
I had never seen him before.
But there was no doubt.
It was David Brooks.
Alive.
Evan moved forward.
David raised a hand.
“Don't.”
“Dad…”
“I said don't.”
Evan's voice broke.
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I had to.”
“For twelve years?”
“Yes.”
“You let Mom mourn you.”
“I know.”
“You let me grow up thinking you abandoned us.”
David looked at him.
“I never abandoned you.”
“Then why?”
“Because you were next.”
“Next for what?”
David glanced at me.
Then at the investigator hiding outside the doorway.
“You brought them.”
I looked at Evan.
“I didn't know.”
David sighed.
“Then it's already too late.”
A sound came from behind us.
The chapel door slammed shut.
We turned.
Victor stood there.
His face was bruised.
His coat was torn.
May you like
And he was holding a gun.
“Now,” Victor said, “we can finally have the conversation your father was too cowardly to have.”
