Chapter 6: The Money Was Never for the Living
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Hank stared at the medical account number.
His own name appeared beside the payments.
Monthly transfers.
Hospital invoices.
Prescription charges.
Private nursing services.
The oldest transaction was dated twenty years earlier.
Damon looked at him.
"Why is your name on Daniel's medical account?""
Hank shook his head.
"I've never paid for anyone's treatment.""
Elizabeth placed another document on the table.
"Look at the account holder.""
Hank leaned forward.
His face changed.
The account wasn't registered under his name.
It was registered under the name of his deceased wife.
*MARGARET SULLIVAN.*
Hank stepped backward.
"Margaret died twelve years ago.""
Elizabeth nodded.
"That's what the records say.""
Damon studied the paperwork.
"Who has been using her account?""
Elizabeth looked at Victor.
"Someone with access to the club's money and the hospital's billing records.""
Victor shook his head.
"That doesn't narrow it down.""
"It narrows it down to three people.""
Hank frowned.
"Who?""
Elizabeth counted on her fingers.
"You. Victor. And the man who took over the club's financial system after Marcus died.""
Frank Miller, standing near the doorway, suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Damon noticed.
"Frank?""
The older biker raised his hands.
"I had nothing to do with those accounts.""
Victor stared at him.
"Nobody accused you.""
Frank swallowed.
"I just want to make that clear.""
Hank approached the table.
"Elizabeth, explain what happened.""
She sat down.
Her hands trembled as she removed another document from her coat.
"Twenty years ago, Daniel was diagnosed with a serious heart condition. The years in hiding had destroyed his health. He needed treatment he couldn't afford.""
Caleb looked at the photographs.
"So my father helped him?""
"Yes. Marcus found him. They were both alive by then, but neither could safely return to the club. Their father was dead, but the people who had worked for him were still looking for the brothers.""
Damon frowned.
"Then why not come home?""
"Because Daniel had been accused of murdering their father. The police were still looking for him. And someone had planted evidence that Marcus had helped.""
Hank rubbed his forehead.
"I thought Daniel killed him.""
Elizabeth shook her head.
"Neither brother did.""
"Then who?""
She placed a final photograph on the table.
A young man stood beside a black car.
Behind him was the old warehouse.
Hank recognized him immediately.
"Thomas.""
Victor looked up.
"Thomas Reed?""
Elizabeth nodded.
"Their father.""
Damon stared.
"That's a photograph from before the fire.""
"Yes. But look at the man beside him.""
Caleb leaned closer.
The second man was much younger.
Wearing an Iron Saints jacket.
His face was familiar.
Too familiar.
Caleb slowly looked at Frank.
Frank's expression had gone completely blank.
"That's not me," he said.
But his voice shook.
Victor took the photograph.
"That's your father.""
Frank didn't answer.
Hank stared.
"Your father was Thomas Reed's driver.""
Frank looked down.
"Yes.""
Damon stepped toward him.
"You knew all this?""
Frank shook his head.
"I was a child.""
"But your father worked with Thomas.""
"He died when I was twelve.""
Elizabeth interrupted.
"No, Frank. He didn't.""
Frank's eyes snapped toward her.
"What?""
"Your father was the man who set the warehouse fire.""
Frank shook his head violently.
"That's a lie.""
"He survived the fire. He changed his name and disappeared. He was the one who helped Thomas steal the family money.""
Hank grabbed the photograph.
"Who was he?""
Elizabeth answered.
"Arthur Miller.""
Frank staggered backward.
"My father died in a motorcycle accident.""
Elizabeth looked at him.
"That's what he told you.""
Frank's mouth opened, but no words came.
Caleb noticed that Frank was sweating.
"Why are you so scared?""
Frank looked at the boy.
Then he turned toward the exit.
Victor blocked his path.
"Not so fast.""
Frank raised his hands.
"I don't know anything about this.""
Hank moved closer.
"Then explain why your father's name appears on the original warehouse security report.""
Frank stared at him.
Hank placed a document on the table.
The report contained three signatures.
Thomas Reed.
Arthur Miller.
And a third name.
*HANK SULLIVAN.*
Damon grabbed the paper.
"Your signature?""
Hank closed his eyes.
"Yes.""
Caleb looked at him.
"You helped burn the warehouse?""
"No.""
"Then why did you sign?""
Hank sat down.
"Because I was told the building was empty.""
Elizabeth's voice sharpened.
"It wasn't.""
Hank looked up.
"I know that now.""
Victor stared at him.
"Who told you it was empty?""
Hank swallowed.
"Thomas.""
Damon's hands curled into fists.
"How many people died?""
Hank couldn't answer.
Elizabeth did.
"Two.""
She pointed to the photograph.
"One was a mechanic who worked for the club. The other was a woman who had been hiding documents inside the building.""
Caleb remembered the newspaper headline.
The woman in the photograph.
"Elizabeth?""
She shook her head.
"No. Her name was Sarah.""
"Who was she?""
Elizabeth looked at Hank.
"Margaret Sullivan's sister.""
Hank stood abruptly.
"That's enough.""
Elizabeth didn't stop.
"Sarah was the person who discovered Thomas was stealing money from the families. She threatened to expose him. Thomas ordered the fire.""
Hank's voice cracked.
"And you expect me to believe he killed his own people?""
"I watched him do it.""
Hank looked devastated.
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"Because the police were paid to bury the investigation.""
Victor slowly understood.
"The missing money wasn't just stolen from the families.""
Elizabeth nodded.
"It was used to pay everyone who helped cover up the fire.""
Damon looked at the account statements again.
"Then the four hundred thousand dollars...""
"Was part of the same operation.""
Caleb's phone vibrated.
He looked down.
An unknown number.
A message.
Your mother is safe. For now.
Another appeared.
Tell Hank to bring the ring to the old church at midnight.
A third message followed.
Come alone, or Daniel dies.
Caleb's face drained of color.
Damon grabbed the phone.
"Who's Daniel?""
Elizabeth closed her eyes.
"My son.""
The room went silent.
Caleb stared at her.
"Daniel is your son?""
Elizabeth nodded.
"Yes.""
Damon looked confused.
"But you said Daniel was Marcus's brother.""
"He is.""
"Then how is he your son?""
Elizabeth looked at Caleb.
"Because I raised him after his mother died.""
Hank's expression changed.
"Margaret?""
Elizabeth nodded.
"Margaret was Daniel's biological mother. She died giving birth to him. I was her younger sister. I raised him as my own.""
Hank slowly sat down.
"That means...""
"Yes," Elizabeth whispered.
"Daniel is your stepson's son.""
Caleb struggled to follow.
"So Daniel is my cousin?""
Elizabeth nodded.
"And he's the only person alive who can tell you which brother was buried in 1999.""
Victor looked at the clock.
11:17 p.m.
"Midnight is less than an hour away.""
Damon shook his head.
"We're not walking into a trap.""
Caleb grabbed the phone.
"They'll kill him.""
Damon held his shoulders.
"We'll find another way.""
Hank stood.
"No. We're going.""
Damon glared at him.
"You've spent twenty-seven years lying. Why should anyone follow you?""
Hank reached into his jacket.
He removed a small velvet pouch.
Inside was another silver ring.
But this one was different.
It had a tiny engraved cross on the inside.
Elizabeth gasped.
"Where did you get that?""
Hank looked at her.
"Margaret gave it to me the night she died.""
Elizabeth backed away.
"That's impossible.""
Hank opened his palm.
There was a tiny photograph inside the ring.
A newborn baby.
On the back were two words.
*NOT DANIEL.*
Caleb stared at it.
"Whose baby?""
Hank looked at Elizabeth.
Then he whispered:
"The child we were told had died in 1999.""
Elizabeth began crying.
And from outside the clubhouse came the sound of a motorcycle approaching.
One engine.
Then two.
Then ten.
Victor moved to the window.
His face changed.
"Everybody get down.""
Damon pulled Caleb behind the bar.
Hank extinguished the lights.
Through the broken window, headlights flooded the parking lot.
Fifteen motorcycles surrounded the clubhouse.
Their riders wore black leather jackets.
But none carried the Iron Saints patch.
Instead, every jacket displayed the same symbol.
A silver cross.
Elizabeth grabbed Caleb's arm.
"Oh, God.""
He looked at her.
"Who are they?""
She whispered:
"Your father's old brothers.""
Then the clubhouse's front door opened.
A man stepped inside.
He removed his helmet.
His face was older, thinner, and covered in scars.
But Hank recognized him.
So did Victor.
The man looked at the silver ring in Hank's hand.
Then he smiled.
"Hello, Hank.""
Hank couldn't move.
The man took one more step into the light.
"It's been twenty-seven years.""
He looked directly at Caleb.
"Tell me, boy. Has anyone explained yet why your mother was never supposed to give birth to you?""
And before Caleb could answer, the man raised his hand.
In it was a photograph of a newborn baby.
The same baby inside Hank's ring.
May you like
Only this photograph had a name written beneath it.
*CALEB REED.*
