My grandfather’s funeral flashed through my mind.
My father had stood beside the casket greeting mourners with red eyes and shaking hands.
My mother had held Melanie close.
I had been fifteen, lost and confused.
I remembered asking why Grandpa’s silver watch had disappeared.
Dad told me it had been sold to pay hospital bills.
Now I wondered whether anything from that time had been true.
“Why was Walter in their basement?” I asked.
Detective Beckett opened his notebook.
“He received a message yesterday asking him to meet someone at the house. The message appeared to come from Mr. Grayson.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No. Walter says your mother served him coffee. After drinking it, he became disoriented. When he woke, he was locked downstairs.”
“What did they want from him?”
“A key.”
“What key?”
Beckett looked at the prosecutor again.
This time she nodded.
“Walter says your grandfather kept a private safe-deposit box under another name.”
