“Federal accounts maybe.”
“Companies across three states.”
Mara rubbed her forehead.
“Why didn't you go to police?”
“I did.”
Caleb stared.
Harold continued.
“Six weeks ago.”
“To who?”
“Financial crimes detective.”
“Then?”
“Nothing.”
“I began noticing cars outside my house.”
“Phone calls with nobody speaking.”
“Then somebody broke in.”
Mara looked at the drive.
“You think the police leak?”
“I don't know.”
Caleb asked:
“What was in your wallet?”
“A storage key.”
“Why?”
“The original ledger is in a safe deposit box.”
Caleb leaned back.
“And those guys knew?”
Harold nodded.
“Somehow.”
Mara stood.
“This has nothing to do with Caleb now.”
Harold looked ashamed.
“I know.”
“Then take that drive.”
“I wasn't giving it to him.”
Mara paused.
Harold continued.
“I wanted him to understand what he stepped into.”
Caleb stared at the drive.
“Who knows I helped you?”
“Everybody at that gas station.”
“That doesn't mean Ridgeway.”
“One attacker recognized your vest.”
Caleb looked down at the black leather vest hanging behind the chair.
No club patch.
Only local charity ride pins.
Nothing important.
Harold continued.
“Caleb, you need to be careful.”
Caleb almost laughed.
Mara did not.
She looked terrified.
“You came here to tell a man in chemotherapy that violent criminals might know his address?”
Harold’s face fell.
“I came because not telling him would've been worse.”
Caleb reached for Mara’s hand.
She pulled away.
Not angry at him.
Angry at the universe.
“I'm taking Noah to my sister’s.”
“Mara.”
“For a few days.”
“No.”
She turned.
“No?”
“This is his house.”
“And someone may come looking for you.”
“Nobody has.”
“Yet.”
Caleb stood too quickly.
Dizziness hit.
He grabbed the table.
Mara immediately reached for him.
The argument vanished.
Harold stood.
Caleb waved him off.
“Chemo.”
He breathed slowly.
Mara held his arm.
“This.”
Her voice cracked.
“This is what I mean.”
“You can barely stand some mornings.”
“And now somebody comes here talking about criminal records and motorcycle shops.”
Caleb looked at Harold.
“Leave the drive.”
Mara stared at him.
“No.”
Caleb repeated:
“Leave it.”
Harold hesitated.
Mara said:
“Absolutely not.”
Caleb looked at her.
“If someone follows him, safer here.”
“Based on what?”
“My house has cameras.”
“A dog.”
“Alarm.”
“Safe.”
“And cancer,” Mara snapped.
Silence.
She instantly regretted it.
Caleb looked at her.
Mara’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head.
“Don't be.”
Harold picked up the drive.
“I’ll take it.”
Caleb stopped him.