Chapter 6 - The Name Missing From the Photograph
The remaining letters read:
...REED.
Damon looked at Marcus.
Marcus stared back.
“My father.”
“What?”
Marcus sat down.
“My father was Jonathan Reed.”
Damon knew the name.
Jonathan had served as Arthur Ashford’s aviation manager.
He had disappeared shortly after the crash.
“You knew?”
“I knew my father worked for your family. I didn’t know he was connected to the crash.”
Damon’s trust cracked again.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I spent twenty years trying not to be him.”
Marcus produced old military records, employment records, and correspondence.
His story checked out.
Jonathan Reed had abandoned his family when Marcus was nineteen.
Then Lily provided the detail nobody expected.
“The box man looks like Mr. Marcus.”
Naomi shushed her.
Marcus didn’t.
“How much like me?”
Lily studied him.
“Old you.”
Damon understood first.
“Your father.”
Marcus went pale.
“My father would be seventy-three.”
“So?”
“I was told he died overseas.”
Damon almost laughed at the grim familiarity.
“In this family, apparently death certificates are suggestions.”
They searched Arthur’s files.
Jonathan Reed appeared repeatedly.
He had supervised the aircraft.
He had access to the hangar.
And he had received six million dollars two days after the crash.
Arthur had covered for him.
But why?
Walter supplied the answer.
“Jonathan knew everything.”
He had threatened Arthur with exposure.
Arthur paid him to disappear.
“So Jonathan planted the bomb?”
Walter nodded.
“Almost certainly.”
Marcus looked sick.
Damon didn’t blame him.
A father’s crimes did not belong to his son.
That was one lesson Damon refused to inherit from Arthur.
They traced the recent boxes.
One contained financial records being moved from Arthur’s archive.
Another contained hard drives.
Jonathan had been cleaning evidence from the mansion while pretending to serve Arthur.
But he had also been collecting leverage.
“He wants money,” Marcus said.
“No,” Damon replied. “If he wanted money, he already had it.”
“What does he want?”
Damon looked at the photograph.
“To control what history remembers.”
That evening, Damon moved Naomi and Lily to a secure guesthouse.
Naomi confronted him outside.
“You can’t keep treating us like pieces on your security board.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I know.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“You don’t ask.”
Damon paused.
Naomi continued.
“You make decisions for everyone because you’re afraid something will happen if you don’t.”
The words struck harder than he expected.
“That sounds like my grandfather.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Naomi softened.
“You’re not him, Damon.”
He looked away.
“How do you know?”
“Because you worry about becoming him.”
Lily appeared carrying her stuffed rabbit.
“Meeting.”
Naomi sighed.
“Apparently we’ve been summoned.”
Lily sat them on opposite chairs.
“Mr. Damon sad.”
“I’m fine.”
“No.”
She pointed at him.
“No lying in meetings.”
Naomi hid a smile.
Damon surrendered.
“Fine. I’m sad.”
Lily nodded.
“Mama hugs when sad.”
Naomi’s eyes widened.
“Lily.”
“What?”
Damon laughed for the first time in days.
Then the guesthouse lights died.
Marcus called immediately.
“Damon, get them out.”
“What happened?”
“Perimeter breach.”
Glass shattered downstairs.
Damon pushed Naomi and Lily toward the rear exit.
A voice came through the darkness.
“Marcus?”
An elderly man stepped into the doorway.
He looked remarkably like Marcus.
Jonathan Reed smiled.
“Hello, son.”
Then he raised one hand.
May you like
And Damon saw what he was holding.
Lily’s missing pink shoe.
