Chapter 5: The Brother Who Knew Everything
The email contained no signature.
No explanation.
Just a phone number and an address.
Grandma leaned over my shoulder.
“Who sent it?””
“I don't know.””
Emmett took the phone.
“Don't respond yet.””
He examined the email address and checked the attached information.
“There is no attachment. That's good. We should verify the sender before arranging anything.””
I stared at the address.
It was an old farmhouse outside Fruita, about twenty minutes from Grand Junction.
The name attached to the property was Walter Briggs.
I recognized it immediately.
Walter had worked for my grandfather for almost thirty years.
He managed the orchard, repaired the irrigation system, and knew every tree on the property.
After Grandpa died, Dad told everyone Walter had retired and moved away.
I hadn't seen him since the funeral.
“That's Walter's address,” I said.
Emmett looked up.
“You know him?””
“He was practically part of the family.””
Grandma picked up her handbag.
“Then we're going.””
Emmett objected.
“June, I don't recommend showing up without contacting him first.””
I dialed the number.
It rang four times.
Finally, a rough voice answered.
“Hello?””
“Walter? It's Halley.””
Silence.
Then he whispered, “You got my message.””
“Yes. What security footage are you talking about?””
Another pause.
“Your grandfather asked me to keep something safe before he died.””
My throat tightened.
“What?””
“The footage from October fourteenth.””
Grandma gripped my arm.
Walter continued.
“Your father came to the orchard that afternoon with Bryce. They said they needed to inspect the property.””
“Why?””
“I didn't know at the time. But your grandfather had already warned me that something might happen.””
I looked at Emmett.
He was listening carefully.
“Walter, did you see me there?””
“No, sweetheart. You weren't there.””
My eyes closed.
“Then why does the deed have my signature?””
“Because someone came with a document claiming you had authorized the sale.””
“Who?””
Walter hesitated.
“Your brother.””
The room went silent.
I swallowed.
“What did Bryce do?””
“I'll explain when you get here. Bring your attorney.””
Emmett immediately spoke.
“I'll accompany you.””
Walter lowered his voice.
“And Halley?””
“Yes?””
“Don't tell your father you're coming.””
The call ended.
Walter's farmhouse looked almost exactly as I remembered it.
A white wooden porch.
A rusted mailbox.
Two old pickup trucks parked beside a shed.
He opened the door before we reached the steps.
He was thinner than I remembered, with deep wrinkles around his eyes.
“Halley.””
He pulled me into a hug.
“Your grandfather would be proud of you.””
I nearly cried.
Inside, the house smelled of coffee and old wood.
Walter led us into a small office.
On the desk sat a laptop, a stack of folders, and a metal box.
“I kept everything,” he said.
Emmett examined the box.
“What exactly is inside?””
“Copies of documents, photographs, and the security footage.””
Walter opened the laptop.
A video appeared.
The date in the corner read October 14, 2020.
The camera showed the orchard's main entrance.
At 2:17 p.m., my father's black SUV pulled into the driveway.
Bryce got out of the passenger seat.
He was wearing a baseball cap and carrying a brown folder.
Then another vehicle arrived.
A silver sedan.
A woman stepped out.
I leaned closer.
“Who is that?””
Walter paused the video.
“Marissa Cole.””
The notary.
My stomach tightened.
The video continued.
Richard opened the gate and motioned everyone toward the farmhouse.
They were there for nearly forty minutes.
Then Bryce walked back outside holding the brown folder.
He looked directly toward the security camera.
And smiled.
I felt sick.
“Why would he smile?””
Walter shook his head.
“I didn't understand it either.””
Emmett paused the recording.
“Is there another camera?””
Walter nodded.
“One inside the equipment shed. It recorded audio.””
He opened another file.
The picture was grainy, but the voices were clear.
My father's voice came first.
“Once the deed is recorded, there won't be anything she can do.””
Bryce laughed.
“Halley won't even notice. She's too busy paying off those loans.””
My fingers went cold.
Dad continued.
“She trusts me. That's all that matters.””
Then Bryce asked a question.
“What if Grandpa's lawyer checks?””
My father answered without hesitation.
“By then, the property will be under my name. I'll sell it before anyone can challenge anything.””
Grandma gasped.
Emmett leaned toward the laptop.
“Keep playing.””
A door slammed.
Then Bryce spoke again.
“What about the forty-one thousand?””
Dad replied, “Don't worry about it.””
“She's still paying the loans?””
“She doesn't know the money existed.””
Bryce laughed.
“That's cold, Dad.””
My father said something that made my stomach turn.
“It's called being smart. Your sister wouldn't know what to do with that kind of money anyway.””
The recording continued for another minute.
Then Walter paused it.
Grandma was crying silently.
I couldn't move.
All those years, I'd believed Bryce was simply fortunate.
He knew.
He had known about the money.
He had known about the loans.
And he'd helped Dad take the orchard.
Emmett copied the files onto an encrypted drive.
“This is important evidence. Walter, can you confirm that these recordings came from your original security system?””
“Yes. I haven't edited them.””
Emmett nodded.
“Then we'll preserve the originals and arrange for proper authentication.””
I turned toward Walter.
“Why didn't you tell me sooner?””
He looked down.
“Your grandfather asked me to wait until you had a reason to question the transfer.””
“Why?””
Walter opened the metal box.
Inside was a small envelope.
My name was written across it.
“He left this with me three weeks before he died.””
I stared at the handwriting.
Walter handed it to me.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph of Grandpa standing beside me in the orchard.
I was seventeen, holding a tiny injured fox wrapped in a blanket.
On the back, he'd written:
Halley, the orchard is not just land. It's where I kept the promises I made to your grandmother.
Underneath was another sentence.
If Richard sells it, find the old red barn.
I looked up.
“What old red barn?””
Walter's face changed.
“Your grandfather had another reason for protecting that property.””
Emmett frowned.
“What reason?””
Walter looked toward the window.
“There's something buried beneath the barn floor.””
Grandma stood.
“Elwood never told me about that.””
Walter nodded slowly.
“He told very few people.””
May you like
Then he looked directly at me.
“And whatever is down there is probably the reason your father was so desperate to get the orchard.””
