The Key to Storage Unit 108

PART 2 — The Letter

I stood beneath the cypress trees with my father’s letter trembling between my fingers.

I read the first line again.

“Son, if you’re reading this, Reagan has already started lying to you.”

My heart pounded.

I looked at the groundskeeper.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Walter.”

“Did my father know you?”

Walter nodded.

“For nearly twenty years.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was alive?”

The old man’s expression changed.

“Because your father made me promise not to say anything unless you came looking for him yourself.”

I stared at him.

“Is he alive?”

Walter looked down.

“No.”

The answer struck me harder than Reagan’s words.

“He died?”

Walter nodded slowly.

“But not a year ago.”

I unfolded the letter again.

My father’s handwriting filled several pages.

Finnley,

If you are reading this, I am gone. But I need you to know something before you believe anything Reagan tells you.

You did not steal from my company.

My vision blurred.

I had spent three years behind bars because everyone believed I had stolen nearly $400,000 from my father’s business.

But my father knew the truth.

I kept reading.

I discovered where the money went. Carter was involved. Reagan knows more than she admits.

My hands went numb.

Then came the sentence that made my blood run cold.

Your conviction was not an accident.

I stopped reading.

“Walter…”

He looked at me.

“What happened to my father?”

Walter glanced toward the cemetery office.

“Not here.”

He pointed toward the road.

“Go to Storage Unit 108.”

I gripped the old key.

“What am I going to find?”

Walter’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“The reason your father wanted you to believe he was dead.”

PART 3 — Storage Unit 108

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