PART 3 — THE PAPERS BARLOW TRIED TO BURY
The key turned halfway.
Then stopped.
For one strange second, nobody moved.
Wesley stared at the door.
I stared at Wesley.
And Nolan’s fingers tightened around mine so hard that his little nails dug into my skin.
The key turned again.
This time harder.
Metal scraped against metal.
Then came a frustrated curse from the hallway.
Wesley looked toward me.
“You said I fixed the latch.”
“You did.”
“Did Barlow have a master key?”
“He has keys to every apartment.”
“Not anymore.”
I didn’t understand.
Then Wesley pointed toward the inside of the lock.
“When I adjusted the door, I noticed the cylinder was loose. I tightened it. His worn key probably isn’t seating correctly.”
Another shove rattled the door.
“Open up!” Mr. Barlow shouted.
Nolan flinched.
I pulled him close.
“What do we do?” I whispered.
Wesley held the plastic folder against his chest.
“Do you have a fire escape?”
“No.”
“Second exit?”
“Bedroom window, but we’re on the third floor.”
“Then we don’t run.”
“That’s your plan?”
“No.”
He pulled out his phone.
“We record.”
He tapped the screen and slipped the phone into his sweatshirt pocket with the camera facing outward.
Then he handed me the folder.
“Hide this.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere he won’t look.”
I glanced around.
The apartment suddenly seemed too small.
Too open.
Too obvious.
Every drawer.
Every cabinet.
Every closet.
Mr. Barlow owned the building.
He knew the rooms.
Then Nolan tugged my sleeve.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“My science project.”
I looked at him.
He pointed toward the battered cardboard solar system sitting on top of the bookshelf.
It was a huge mess of painted foam planets, glitter, wires, and a shoebox base.
I almost said no.
Then I understood.
I grabbed it.
The bottom had already been cut open so Nolan could hide the battery pack.
I slid the plastic folder inside beneath the black paper representing “space.”
Nolan pushed the battery pack back over it.
Then I returned the model to the shelf.
From ten feet away, it looked exactly like what it was supposed to be.
A nine-year-old’s school project nobody sane would touch.
Mr. Barlow hammered on the door again.
“Audrey, I know you’re in there!”
I swallowed.
Wesley whispered, “Don’t tell him we found anything.”
I nodded.
Then I opened the door.
Not all the way.
Just enough to see Mr. Barlow’s face.
He was furious.
And he wasn’t alone.
A younger man stood behind him.
Maybe thirty.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Gray work jacket.
I had seen him around the building before but never knew his name.
Mr. Barlow pushed the door.
I held it.
“What do you want?”
“I left something.”
“What?”
“Maintenance paperwork.”
My heart kicked against my ribs.
“What maintenance paperwork?”
“In the kitchen.”
“You were already in my kitchen.”
“Move.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Audrey.”
“You told me to leave within seven days. Fine. But until then, I still live here.”
The younger man glanced at Wesley.
Then at Nolan.
He looked uncomfortable.
Mr. Barlow lowered his voice.
“Don’t make this complicated.”
“It became complicated when you came back after threatening to evict me.”
His jaw tightened.
“Let me inside.”
“No.”
Wesley stepped closer.
“You should leave.”
Mr. Barlow looked past me.
“You.”
Wesley smiled without warmth.
“Me.”
“I thought I told you to get out.”
“And I thought Audrey told you to leave.”
“This building belongs to me.”
Wesley’s expression didn’t change.
“Her home doesn’t.”
Mr. Barlow pushed the door again.
Hard.
I stumbled backward.
That was all the opening he needed.
He forced himself inside.
The younger man followed, but slowly.
“What are you doing?” I shouted.
Mr. Barlow headed straight for the kitchen.
Exactly where we had found the folder.
He dropped to one knee beside the exposed wall.
His hand disappeared into the cavity.
Once.
Twice.
Then deeper.
I watched his face.
It changed.
Confusion first.
Then panic.
Then rage.
He spun around.
“Where is it?”
My mouth went dry.
“Where is what?”
“The envelope.”
“What envelope?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Wesley leaned against the counter.
“I thought you came back for maintenance paperwork.”
Mr. Barlow glared at him.
“That’s what I said.”
“Then why are you calling it an envelope now?”
Silence.
The younger man behind him shifted uneasily.
Mr. Barlow looked toward him.
“Check the cabinets.”
I stepped forward.
“No.”
The younger man froze.
Mr. Barlow snapped, “Derek.”
So that was his name.
Derek looked at me.
Then at Nolan.
“I’m not searching her stuff.”
Mr. Barlow’s face darkened.
“You work for me.”
“Yeah. Maintenance.”
“Then maintain.”
“That ain’t maintenance.”
Wesley’s eyes narrowed.
Mr. Barlow stood.
“You’re fired.”
Derek shrugged.
“Probably overdue.”
I almost laughed from pure nerves.
Mr. Barlow did not.
He walked toward Wesley.
“You found something.”
Wesley didn’t blink.
“You seem very worried that I did.”
“You have no idea what you’re involving yourself in.”
“Actually, I think I know exactly.”
Mr. Barlow lowered his voice.
“The River Street accident was six years ago.”
“I remember.”
“Then remember the settlement.”
Wesley’s face tightened.
“What settlement?”
Mr. Barlow stopped.
The entire room seemed to shrink.
Wesley pushed away from the counter.
“What did you just say?”
Mr. Barlow’s expression told me he wished he could swallow those words.
Wesley took one step closer.
“There was no settlement.”
“You got workers’ comp.”
“That wasn’t a settlement.”
“You got money.”
“I got medical payments and partial wages.”
Mr. Barlow looked away.
Wesley’s voice sharpened.
“What settlement?”
Derek glanced toward the door.
“I should go.”
Mr. Barlow pointed at him.
“Stay.”
Derek stopped.
Wesley pulled his phone from his pocket.
“You just said settlement.”
Mr. Barlow stared at the phone.
“You recording me?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Barlow lunged.
It happened so quickly I barely understood what I was seeing.
He grabbed for Wesley’s phone.
Wesley stepped back.
His injured leg twisted.
He cried out and slammed against the refrigerator.
Nolan screamed.
Something inside me snapped.
I grabbed the heavy cast-iron skillet from the stove.
“Get away from him!”
Mr. Barlow froze.
I held the skillet in both hands.
My arms were shaking.
I had never threatened anyone with anything in my life.
I probably looked ridiculous.
But I meant it.
“Leave my apartment.”
Mr. Barlow stared at me.
“Audrey.”
“Now.”
“You’re making a terrible mistake.”
“No.”
My voice steadied.
“I made the mistake three years ago when I believed every excuse you gave me.”
He looked at Nolan.
Then at Wesley.
Then at Derek.
His eyes stopped on the bookshelf.
For one terrible second, I thought he knew.
His gaze passed over Nolan’s solar system.
Then moved on.
I forced myself not to look at it.
Mr. Barlow stepped toward the door.
Before leaving, he pointed at Wesley.
“If you found anything in that wall, it belongs to me.”
Wesley was still gripping his knee.
“Evidence doesn’t belong to the person who hid it.”
Mr. Barlow’s face went flat.
Completely flat.
That frightened me more than his anger.
Then he looked at me.
“You have until Friday.”
He left.
The door slammed.
Derek remained.
I stared at him.
“Aren’t you going with him?”
He looked through the doorway.
Then quietly closed the door.
“No.”
Wesley straightened carefully.
“You okay?”
Derek nodded.
Then looked toward the hole in the kitchen.
“What did you find?”
Nobody answered.
Derek exhaled.
“If it’s what I think it is, you need to get it out of this building.”
My skin prickled.
“What do you think it is?”
He looked at Nolan.
“Can your kid go to another room?”
“No,” Nolan said immediately.
Despite everything, Wesley almost smiled.
I didn’t.
“Nolan, bedroom.”
“But Mom—”
“Take your backpack. We’re leaving soon.”
He hesitated.
Then looked at Wesley.
Wesley nodded.
“It’s okay.”
Nolan finally walked down the hall.
The second his bedroom door shut, Derek lowered his voice.
“Barlow has been tearing apart walls in this building for three weeks.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“At night.”
“Why?”
“He said there were old plumbing lines he wanted checked.”
Wesley’s face hardened.
“Which apartments?”
“Two-B. Four-A. Basement storage. Mrs. Campbell’s pantry.”
“My apartment?”
“Was next.”
A cold wave passed through me.
“Next?”
Derek nodded.
“He told me yesterday we’d open your kitchen wall this weekend.”
Wesley and I looked at each other.
“If Wesley hadn’t opened it first…” I said.
Derek finished the thought.
“Barlow would have.”
I sat down.
My legs suddenly felt weak.
Wesley looked toward the wall.
“So he knew something was hidden.”
“Yeah.”
Derek rubbed the back of his neck.
“I just didn’t know what.”
“How long have you worked for him?” Wesley asked.
“Three years.”
“You ever hear about River Street?”
Derek’s eyes lifted.
“Everybody who works for Barlow hears about River Street.”
My heart thudded.
“What do they say?”
“That it was the accident that killed his old company.”
Wesley’s jaw clenched.
“It killed more than his company.”
Derek nodded slowly.
“I know.”
“Do you know the name Calvin Mercer?”
Derek thought.
“No.”
Wesley swallowed.
“He was the man who died.”
Derek looked uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry.”
Wesley turned away.
For a moment, the anger drained from him.
All that was left was grief.
Old grief.
Heavy grief.
The kind that doesn’t disappear.
It just learns how to sit quietly inside a person.
Then Derek said, “There was another name.”
Wesley turned back.
“What?”
“Barlow mentioned somebody whenever he got drunk.”
“Who?”
“Don’t remember the first name.”
Derek frowned.
“Last name was Cole.”
Wesley’s face changed.
“Marcus Cole?”
Derek snapped his fingers.
“Yeah. Marcus.”
Wesley staggered backward.
I caught his arm.
“Who’s Marcus?”
He didn’t answer.
“Wesley.”
He sat down.
“Marcus was our site supervisor.”
“The one at River Street?”
“Yes.”
“Was he hurt too?”
“No.”
“What happened to him?”
Wesley looked at Derek.
“He disappeared two days after Calvin died.”
I frowned.
“Disappeared how?”
“He stopped answering calls. His apartment was empty. His truck was gone.”
“Police?”
“He wasn’t officially missing. He was an adult. They said he probably left town.”
“But you didn’t believe that.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Wesley looked toward the kitchen wall.
“Because Marcus called me from the hospital the night after the accident.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did he say?”
Wesley took a slow breath.
“He said, ‘It wasn’t an accident.’”
Nobody spoke.
“He said he had proof Barlow knew the scaffolding was unsafe. Inspection reports. Emails. Photographs.”
I looked toward Nolan’s science project.
“And then he vanished.”
“Yes.”
Derek went pale.
“Jesus.”
Wesley continued.
“I told investigators about the call. They searched Marcus’s place but found nothing.”
“Until now,” I whispered.
Wesley nodded.
We stood there in silence.
Then Derek said something that made my blood run cold.
“There’s more.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Barlow didn’t buy this building three years ago.”
“Yes, he did.”
“No.”
Derek shook his head.
“He started managing it three years ago. He’s owned it much longer.”
“How much longer?”
“I’ve seen old tax paperwork in his office.”
Wesley became very still.
“Since when?”
Derek thought.
“Maybe seven years.”
Wesley stared at him.
“Before River Street?”
“Yeah.”
My mouth went dry.
Which meant these papers might have been hidden in this wall when the accident happened.
Someone had known they existed.
Someone had put them here.
And six years later, Barlow was suddenly tearing apart apartments trying to find them.
“Why now?” I asked.
Derek looked at me.
“What?”
“If the papers have been hidden six years, why is he looking now?”
Derek’s expression changed.
“I might know.”
Wesley stepped closer.
“Tell us.”
“About a month ago, a woman came to Barlow’s office.”
“What woman?”
“Older. Maybe sixties.”
“Name?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did she want?”
“She asked him if he remembered Marcus Cole.”
Wesley went rigid.
“What happened?”
“They argued.”
“About what?”
“I couldn’t hear everything.”
Derek paused.
“But I heard her say, ‘You have thirty days to give me what belongs to my son.’”
Wesley stared at him.
“Her son?”
“Marcus,” I whispered.
Derek nodded.
“She was his mother.”
Wesley covered his mouth.
The room went silent.
Then I heard Nolan’s bedroom door creak.
He had been listening.
Of course he had.
“Nolan.”
He stepped into the hall.
“Sorry.”
I should have been angry.
Instead I was too tired.
“Get your coat.”
“Are we going to Aunt Melissa’s?”
“Yes.”
Wesley looked at Derek.
“You need to leave too.”
Derek nodded.
“Probably.”
“No. I mean leave Barlow.”
“I already got fired.”
“I mean leave this building.”
Derek looked confused.
Wesley lowered his voice.
“If Barlow thinks you told us something, he may come after you.”
Derek laughed nervously.
“What is this, a movie?”
Wesley didn’t laugh.
Neither did I.
Derek stopped smiling.
“I’ve got a girlfriend across town.”
“Stay there.”
Derek nodded.
Then hesitated.
“There’s something in Barlow’s office you might want.”
Wesley’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Old employee files from the renovation company.”
“You’ve seen them?”
“Boxes in the storage closet.”
“Why would he keep them?”
“No clue.”
“Can you get them?”
Derek looked toward the door.
“Not anymore.”
“You still have keys?”
Derek reached into his pocket.
A ring of keys jingled.
“Technically.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
Both men looked at me.
“We are not breaking into an office.”
Derek raised his hands.
“Wasn’t saying we should.”
Wesley nodded.
“She’s right.”
I blinked.
That was easier than expected.
Then Wesley added, “We call the lawyer first.”
I picked up my purse.
“We leave first.”
Nobody argued with that.
I took Nolan’s science project from the shelf.
He stared at me.
“You’re bringing Neptune?”
“I’m bringing your entire solar system.”
“Mrs. Jensen said it has to stay flat.”
“Nolan.”
“Okay.”
We carried everything downstairs.
The hallway was empty.
Outside, the cold hit us immediately.
Derek walked toward an old pickup truck.
Wesley limped beside me.
Then stopped.
“Wait.”
“What?”
He looked across the parking lot.
A dark sedan was parked beneath a broken streetlight.
Engine running.
Someone was sitting inside.
Watching our building.
“Do you know that car?” Wesley asked.
I shook my head.
Derek looked over.
Then his face changed.
“Yeah.”
“Who is it?”
“Barlow’s.”
I stared.
“That isn’t the car he was driving earlier.”
“No.”
Derek swallowed.
“It belongs to his wife.”
The sedan’s headlights came on.
It pulled away.
Slowly.
Wesley watched until it disappeared.
“We need to move.”
We climbed into my old Honda.
I placed Nolan’s solar system carefully across his lap.
“Don’t drop it.”
He looked insulted.
“It’s worth more than my life now.”
For the first time in what felt like hours, I laughed.
A real laugh.
It lasted two seconds.
Then Wesley’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
“Answer it.”
He did.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then his expression changed.
“Who is this?”
I couldn’t hear the voice.
Wesley put the call on speaker.
An older woman spoke.
“Is this Wesley Grant?”
Wesley’s face drained.
“Yes.”
“My name is Elaine Cole.”
Nobody breathed.
Marcus Cole’s mother.
Wesley gripped the phone.
“How did you get this number?”
“I’ve been trying to find you for weeks.”
“Why?”
“Because Marcus left instructions.”
Wesley’s voice cracked.
“Marcus is alive?”
There was a pause.
Too long.
“No.”
Wesley closed his eyes.
Elaine continued.
“My son died four months ago.”
I covered my mouth.
“He wasn’t missing?”
“He was hiding.”
“From Barlow?”
“Yes.”
Wesley leaned against my car.
“Where?”
“Arizona. Then New Mexico. He changed his name.”
“Why didn’t he contact me?”
“He was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of what would happen if Barlow knew he still had evidence.”
My eyes moved toward the cardboard solar system.
Wesley did the same.
Elaine’s voice trembled.
“Before Marcus died, he gave me a letter.”
“What did it say?”
“That if Thomas Barlow ever began looking for the River Street files, I should find you.”
“Why me?”
“Because Marcus trusted you.”
Wesley looked crushed.
“He never told me.”
“He thought silence would keep you alive.”
The words hit all of us.
Even Nolan stopped fidgeting.
Elaine continued.
“Wesley, did you find the files?”
He looked at me.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Elaine inhaled sharply.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“Do not tell me.”
Wesley frowned.
“What?”
“Do not say where they are over the phone.”
The cold suddenly felt sharper.
“Elaine, what exactly is in those papers?”
A pause.
Then she said, “Enough to prove the collapse was deliberate negligence.”
Wesley closed his eyes.
“But that isn’t the reason Barlow is terrified.”
My heart seemed to stop.
“What else is there?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Elaine went quiet.
“Who is that?”
“My friend.”
I almost corrected the word.
I didn’t.
Elaine continued.
“There was something else hidden with the inspection reports.”
“What?”
“A notebook.”
Wesley looked at me.
We had seen no notebook.
“What notebook?”
“Marcus kept records.”
“Of what?”
“Payments.”
Wesley frowned.
“What payments?”
“Cash payments Barlow made to inspectors, subcontractors, and one city official.”
My stomach twisted.
Elaine lowered her voice.
“And one payment made three days after the River Street collapse.”
“To who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What was it for?”
“The entry only says two words.”
Wesley gripped the phone.
“What words?”
Elaine answered.
“Cole problem.”
Everyone went silent.
Wesley stared into the darkness.
Elaine whispered, “Marcus believed Barlow paid someone to make him disappear.”
My skin turned cold.
“But Marcus escaped,” Wesley said.
“Yes.”
“Then whoever was paid failed.”
Elaine didn’t answer.
“Elaine?”
Her voice came back softer.
“No, Wesley.”
“What?”
“The payment happened before Marcus ran.”
My stomach dropped.
“I don’t understand.”
“Marcus said the person Barlow paid wasn’t hired to find him.”
Wesley stopped breathing.
“Then what were they hired to do?”
Elaine’s answer came slowly.
“To kill you.”
Nolan gasped.
I reached for Wesley’s arm.
His face had gone completely white.
Then every light in our apartment building went out.
All three floors.
Instantly.
Dark.
Derek turned toward the entrance.
“That’s not normal.”
Across the street, the dark sedan reappeared.
It stopped.
Two doors opened.
And two men stepped out.
Elaine’s voice crackled from Wesley’s phone.
“Wesley?”
He stared at the men.
“Elaine.”
“What?”
“I think Barlow just found us.”……………
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4…
