Chapter 4: The Key David Left Behind
The man stepping out of the black truck wore a charcoal suit, polished shoes, and the kind of smile that never reached his eyes.
He looked completely out of place in an elementary school parking lot.
That was what frightened me most.
Men who wanted trouble usually dressed for it. This man looked like someone who would shake your hand at a charity dinner before arranging your funeral.
Noah grabbed my vest.
"That's him," he whispered.
I kept my eyes on the stranger.
"You've seen him before?""
Noah nodded.
"He comes to our house when Mom isn't home. He knocks on the door, but he never waits for her to answer.""
The man's gaze settled on Noah.
Then he looked at me.
"Ray Dawson," he called.
"We need to talk.""
I stepped between him and the boy.
"Funny. I don't remember inviting you.""
He straightened his cuff.
"My name is Victor Hale. I'm here to prevent a misunderstanding.""
"Then you're already too late.""
A faint smile crossed his face.
"I see David's old friends still enjoy making everything difficult.""
The sound of David's name coming from this stranger's mouth sent a cold shiver down my spine.
"How do you know David Mitchell?""
"Better question," Victor replied, "is why you're suddenly interested in his son.""
"Maybe because the boy asked me to be his father for an hour.""
Victor glanced at Noah's small hand gripping my vest.
"That was unfortunate.""
"Careful," I said.
"You're talking about a child.""
"And you're standing between that child and people who can make your life very unpleasant.""
Behind me, Noah began to tremble.
I heard Marcus approaching from the school entrance. Two other Iron Wolves followed him, their boots striking the pavement.
Victor noticed them.
He didn't seem concerned.
"Let me make this simple, Mr. Dawson. Give me the key.""
My hand instinctively closed around the brass object in my pocket.
So he knew about it.
That meant Noah's mother had been right. Someone was hunting for whatever David had left behind.
"What key?"" I asked.
Victor sighed as though I were an irritating employee who had failed to understand a simple instruction.
"The one the boy gave you.""
"You seem awfully interested in a piece of metal.""
"Because it belongs to me.""
"Your name's not on it.""
"No," Victor said softly.
"But the contents of the box it opens are.""
He took a step forward.
Marcus moved beside me.
"That's close enough, friend.""
Victor studied Marcus's leather vest, then looked back at me.
"You have no idea what David stole.""
"Then tell me.""
"I don't have time to explain nine years of history to a man who has spent most of his life drinking coffee in diners and playing outlaw.""
Marcus's jaw tightened.
I raised one hand to stop him.
"You're going to explain one thing," I said.
"Why have you been following a nine-year-old boy?""
Victor's expression hardened.
"Because his mother has made a very dangerous mistake.""
"What mistake?""
"She allowed David to contact the child.""
Noah looked up at me.
"David called me?""
Victor's eyes flickered toward him.
For the first time, the stranger looked genuinely irritated.
"Your mother should have kept her mouth shut.""
Noah flinched.
I stepped forward.
"You don't speak to him like that.""
Victor reached inside his jacket.
Marcus immediately moved between us.
"Easy," Marcus warned.
The stranger withdrew a business card instead of a weapon and held it toward me.
"Consider this an opportunity to walk away. Give me the key, and you and your friends can return to your motorcycles. The boy goes home. Everyone forgets this morning ever happened.""
"And if I don't?""
Victor's smile disappeared.
"Then the people who protected David all those years ago won't be able to protect you.""
A police siren sounded in the distance.
Victor glanced toward the road.
"Think carefully, Mr. Dawson. Some secrets are buried for a reason.""
He returned to his truck.
Before climbing inside, he looked directly at Noah.
"Tell your mother Victor says hello.""
Then he drove away.
For several seconds, none of us spoke.
Marcus finally broke the silence.
"I officially hate that man.""
"Get in line," I muttered.
Mrs. Collins hurried outside, followed by the school principal.
"The police are on their way," she said.
"I've also called Noah's emergency contact.""
"His mother?"" I asked.
She shook her head.
"Someone named Elaine Porter. Apparently, she's Noah's maternal aunt.""
I looked down at Noah.
"Buddy, do you know an Elaine?""
He nodded.
"Aunt Elaine lives outside town. Mom says she's the only person we can trust if something bad happens.""
I took out the key and examined it again.
A small number had been engraved beneath my name.
*417.*
Marcus leaned over my shoulder.
"Looks like a storage locker number.""
"Or a safe-deposit box.""
"How are we supposed to find out?""
I turned the key over in my palm.
Nine years earlier, David had disappeared after leaving me a letter about protecting someone.
Now his son had handed me a key bearing my name, and a man in an expensive suit was threatening a child to get it back.
Whatever David had hidden, it was worth frightening a nine-year-old boy.
That made it worth finding.
But first, I had to get Noah somewhere safe.
A police cruiser pulled into the parking lot. Two officers approached while Mrs. Collins explained what had happened.
I gave them Victor's description and the truck's license plate, which Marcus had photographed.
One officer, a tall woman with silver hair, crouched to speak to Noah.
"Sweetheart, do you feel safe going home today?""
Noah shook his head.
"No, ma'am.""
"Can you tell me why?""
He looked at me.
Then he whispered, "Because the man who comes to our house isn't the only one watching us.""
The officer straightened.
"What do you mean?""
Noah pointed toward the far end of the parking lot.
A second vehicle sat beside the fence.
An ordinary white sedan.
Its windows were dark.
And on the dashboard lay a photograph of Noah standing outside his house.
Taken that morning.
The officer's face changed.
She immediately reached for her radio.
I felt the brass key pressing into my palm.
David hadn't just left us a mystery.
May you like
He'd left his son in the middle of a hunt.
And whoever was hunting him had just discovered that I was no longer willing to walk away.
