Chapter 2 - Walter Pike Wasn’t His Real Name
Renley wanted Mrs. Alvarez.
She wanted her mother.
She wanted her squeaky bicycle and the ordinary cracked sidewalks near Harbor Light.
She absolutely did not want to be inside a mansion belonging to a man whose guards carried guns beneath their jackets.
Gabriel seemed to understand.
“You’re not a prisoner.”
“Then open the gate.”
“I will.”
“Now?”
“As soon as my security team confirms nobody is waiting outside.”
Renley crossed her arms.
“That sounds like prisoner language.”
One of the guards turned away to hide a smile.
Gabriel gave him a look.
The smile vanished.
Gabriel crouched several feet away from Renley so he was closer to her eye level.
“My name is Gabriel Voss.”
“I figured you had a name.”
His eyebrow lifted.
Renley realized what she had said.
“Sorry.”
“No. That was fair.”
He held up his phone.
“You should call whoever is responsible for you.”
“My mom’s working.”
“Then Mrs. Alvarez.”
Renley stared suspiciously.
“You know her name?”
“You said Harbor Light. My people found the director.”
“That’s creepy.”
Again, one guard almost laughed.
Gabriel ignored him.
Renley called the kitchen.
Mrs. Alvarez answered immediately.
“Renley? Where are you?”
“At the delivery.”
“Why didn’t you call when you arrived?”
Renley looked at Gabriel.
“Things got weird.”
Elena’s voice sharpened.
“Put an adult on the phone.”
Renley held it toward Gabriel.
“She wants you.”
Gabriel accepted it.
“Mrs. Alvarez.”
Renley could hear Elena from three feet away.
“Who are you, and why is a twelve-year-old girl still at your house?”
Gabriel actually looked impressed.
“Gabriel Voss.”
A pause.
A very long pause.
Then Elena said something much quieter.
Gabriel’s expression became grim.
“Yes. That Gabriel Voss.”
Another pause.
“I understand your concern.”
Renley mouthed, She’s mad.
Gabriel nodded.
“I’m sending a car for you. You can collect Renley personally.”
Apparently Elena agreed because Gabriel handed the phone back.
“You’re in trouble,” Renley said.
“I’ve survived worse.”
Twenty-five minutes later, Mrs. Alvarez arrived in a battered Honda accompanied by Renley’s mother, Jenna.
Jenna had left work wearing navy scrubs beneath her winter coat.
The instant Renley saw her, she ran.
Jenna wrapped both arms around her daughter.
“What happened?”
“I’m okay.”
“Why are there armed men outside?”
“I told you things got weird.”
Jenna looked over Renley’s head at Gabriel.
“You.”
Gabriel stood near the fireplace.
“Yes.”
“If my daughter is hurt—”
“She isn’t.”
“If you frightened her—”
“I probably did.”
Renley whispered, “He locked the gate.”
Jenna’s eyes widened.
Gabriel rubbed his forehead.
“There was a suspicious vehicle.”
Mrs. Alvarez stepped forward.
“Why would anyone follow Renley?”
Gabriel looked at the envelope from Walter.
“Because my father may have given her something without telling her.”
Jenna pulled Renley closer.
“Your father?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Walter Pike.”
Mrs. Alvarez nearly dropped her purse.
“You’re Walter’s son?”
“Biologically.”
Renley frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Gabriel gestured toward the sitting room.
“This needs explaining.”
Nobody relaxed.
Still, they sat.
Gabriel remained standing.
“My father’s name wasn’t always Walter Pike.”
He opened an old photograph on his phone.
A much younger Walter stood beside a boy of perhaps ten.
The boy had Gabriel’s eyes.
“Walter Voss,” Gabriel said.
Renley stared at the picture.
“He never told me.”
“He stopped using Voss more than twenty years ago.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked toward the window.
“My grandfather built businesses. Some legal. Some not.”
Jenna’s expression hardened.
“Crime.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel did not soften it.
“My father wanted out. My grandfather didn’t.”
“What happened?” Renley asked.
“Walter left eventually.”
“And you?”
“I stayed.”
The answer carried weight.
Renley looked at the mansion.
The guards.
Gabriel’s expensive watch.
Then back at him.
“So Mr. Pike was your dad, and you didn’t visit him for twenty years?”
Jenna whispered, “Renley.”
“No.”
Gabriel looked directly at the girl.
“She deserves the answer.”
He sat opposite her.
“I visited once.”
“When?”
“Nineteen years ago.”
“What happened?”
“We argued.”
“What about?”
“He wanted me to leave everything behind.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I thought power made me safe.”
Renley considered that.
“Did it?”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“No.”
The honesty surprised everyone.
Mrs. Alvarez asked, “How did Walter end up receiving meals from Harbor Light?”
“I don’t know.”
Renley answered.
“He came in two years ago.”
All eyes turned toward her.
“He didn’t ask for food at first. He came because he saw our broken front sign.”
“What?”
“He fixed it.”
Mrs. Alvarez smiled sadly.
“He did.”
“Then he started helping wash dishes,” Renley continued. “Mrs. Alvarez found out he was living on canned soup and made him sign up for deliveries.”
Gabriel looked down.
That image seemed to hurt him.
His father had lived less than fifteen miles away.
Alone.
Eating canned soup.
Gabriel had lived behind marble walls.
“I paid people to locate him,” Gabriel whispered.
Nobody answered.
“He knew how to disappear.”
Mrs. Alvarez said gently, “Maybe he didn’t want to be found.”
Gabriel looked toward Renley.
“Apparently not until now.”
He unfolded Walter’s note again.
Jenna said, “Read it.”
Gabriel hesitated.
Then did.
“Gabriel. If Renley Hart brings this bag to your door, then I have either run out of time or courage. Maybe both.”
Renley’s eyes widened.
“He knew my name?”
“Obviously,” Jenna said.
“No. I mean he knew I would bring it here.”
Gabriel continued.
“The child knows nothing. Keep it that way as long as you can. She was kind to an old man when kindness brought her nothing in return. That matters more than any bloodline ever did.”
Renley looked away, embarrassed.
Gabriel kept reading.
“Do not trust Victor.”
The room changed.
One guard near the doorway stiffened.
Gabriel stopped.
Mrs. Alvarez noticed.
“Who is Victor?”
Gabriel folded the page.
“A man who works for me.”
“That’s not the whole answer,” Jenna said.
“No.”
“Then give us the whole answer.”
Gabriel looked at Renley.
“Victor Dane has been part of my organization for twenty-three years.”
“Criminal organization,” Jenna said.
Gabriel nodded.
“Yes.”
“And Walter was afraid of him?”
“Apparently.”
Renley suddenly remembered something.
“Blue bird.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“What?”
“Mr. Pike said something weird last week.”
Every adult froze.
“What did he say?” Gabriel asked.
Renley concentrated.
“He asked if I knew where his blue bird lived.”
Gabriel’s breath changed.
“What exactly did you answer?”
“I said, ‘On your windowsill, obviously.’ Then he laughed.”
“Anything else?”
Renley nodded slowly.
“He said, ‘Good. If anybody asks, birds always know the way home.’”
Gabriel stood abruptly.
His guard said, “Boss?”
“The apartment.”
Renley understood.
“The ceramic bird.”
Gabriel looked at Jenna.
“We need to inspect Walter’s apartment before Victor does.”
“You are not taking my daughter.”
“I’m not asking to.”
Renley stood.
“But I know where everything is.”
“No,” Jenna said instantly.
“Mom—”
“No.”
Gabriel agreed.
“Your mother is right.”
Renley looked offended.
“You need me.”
“We need your memory. We already have it.”
“You don’t know where he hid things.”
“Neither do you.”
“I know Mr. Pike.”
Gabriel’s voice softened.
“Yes.”
The words stopped her.
“You knew him better than I did.”
For the first time, Renley saw not the feared man newspapers described.
She saw a son who had just learned his father died alone.
Gabriel turned toward one of his guards.
“Marco, contact the building manager. No forced entry. We do this legally.”
Marco nodded.
Gabriel then looked at Jenna.
“Take Renley home.”
Renley frowned.
“What if you find something?”
“I’ll tell Mrs. Alvarez.”
“That means no.”
Gabriel almost smiled.
“You’re very persistent.”
“Mr. Pike said that too.”
The smile disappeared.
Two hours later, Renley was sitting at her kitchen table when someone knocked.
Jenna opened the door cautiously.
Gabriel stood outside.
No guards.
No black coat.
Just Gabriel.
He held the blue ceramic bird.
Renley stood immediately.
“You found it.”
Gabriel nodded.
Inside the hollow base, they had discovered a brass key and another note.
Gabriel placed the bird on the table.
“What did he write?”
Gabriel gave her the note.
Walter’s handwriting filled only one line.
Renley knows the song. Ask her what I taught her on Thursdays.
Gabriel looked at her.
“Did my father teach you a song?”
Renley frowned.
“No.”
Then she remembered.
Not a song.
A game.
Every Thursday before she left, Walter tapped the table four times.
Two slow.
Two fast.
Renley would knock the same rhythm against the door.
Their silly goodbye.
She demonstrated.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap-tap.
Gabriel went completely still.
“What?”
“That wasn’t a game.”
“What was it?”
Gabriel picked up the brass key.
“A code my father used when I was a child.”
“For what?”
“To tell me something was hidden nearby.”
Renley stared at the blue bird.
Gabriel turned it over.
Beneath one wing was a tiny scratched arrow neither of them had noticed.
It pointed toward the base.
Gabriel twisted the bottom.
A second compartment opened.
Inside lay a folded photograph.
Gabriel removed it.
The picture showed Walter standing beside another man.
Victor Dane.
May you like
On the back, Walter had written:
Gabriel, Victor murdered your mother.
