“Hold on, Finnley, this is nuts! You know that, right? This is completely crazy! You need to stop.”

“I can’t stop, don’t you see that? I’m obviously getting under his skin or else he wouldn’t have come to threaten me that way. I need to keep going! I have to keep going!”

The look in Clara’s eyes told Finnley that she looked every bit as unhinged as she felt. She was running on fumes now, there was no way around that fact. Mr. Wallace had delivered his threat and made his exit, finally leaving her alone and undisturbed at four o’clock in the morning. Any dim hope Finnley had possessed of being able to get some sleep that night had been long gone, and she had spent the rest of her night pacing around her apartment, waiting for it to be a semi-reasonable time for her to go to Clara and Weston’s place. She had been stupid enough to believe that her friend would just hand over the information she was looking for and let her go on her merry way. She had been wrong. It would have been easier for her to just look for the information she wanted by herself than to go through this song and dance. It was true that Finnley didn’t have the inside track to police records that Clara did, but still.

“No, Finnley, not right this second. What you need to do right this second is sit down, drink this cup of coffee, and tell me what the hell is going on. I’m not going to lie, sweetie, your kind of scaring me.”

“Alright, fine, if that’s what it takes. I’ll stay for one cup of coffee, but that’s it. I need to get moving. I need to get to them before Mr. Wallace or any of his business associates decide to come and check on me.”

“Here,” Clara handed her a cup of coffee, the warmth sinking into Finnley’s skin and making her ache for the sleep that had so long alluded her. “Sip on this and tell me what’s going on. Tell me as calmly as you can so that I understand what we’re dealing with here.”

“Okay. Like I said, I went to see Garrett’s mom last night, just like I said I was going to. She pretty much confirmed any doubts I had that Garrett’s dad is an evil son of a bitch, so that was good. I was planning on telling Garrett about it, but apparently his dad got to him first. At least I’m assuming it was him who told Garrett where I went. Unless it was you.”

“Me? Why would it be me?” Clara shifted uncomfortably in his chair, still one of the worst liars Finnley had ever known.

“Because he told me that the two of you met up last night. He told me that you asked him to meet you so you could tell him about the information you found.”

“I did. I’m sorry, I should have told you, but it wasn’t planned. I just couldn’t stop thinking about my own story, you know? I would have given anything for somebody to tell me the truth about who I really was and where I really came from. I couldn’t stand the idea that I was keeping a piece of a person’s history from them, the same way it was done to me.”

“I get it. It’s okay, Clara. I never even thought about it that way, but it makes total sense. But it wasn’t you that told him—”

“That you went to see his mom?! No way. I wouldn’t have done that. I would never want to get you into trouble with the guy you like.”

“It must have been his dad, then. I don’t know how he knew, but he did, and Garrett showed up at my place seriously pissed off. I don’t know if he’s going to forgive me, Clara. I really don’t. You should have seen him. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me with that kind of disappointment before.” 

“Because you were meddling in his life?”

“Basically. He said that I crossed a line, and that if I didn’t know that, I should have.”

“So forgive me for asking this, but don’t you think you’re still kind of doing that? If he asked you to stop, maybe you should just do it. Maybe it would be better if you just let him take care of things.”

“I might have agreed with you if his dad hadn’t shown up at my door after Garrett left. He showed up and threatened me, Clara, like he thought I would just back down like some frightened little girl.”

“It doesn’t make you a coward to leave it alone.”

“Yes, it does. And I’m not going to do it so you might as well save yourself the trouble of trying to convince me. I’ve put too much time into this, learned too much. This guy has literally been getting away with murder for years and years. I’m not going to let that happen anymore. I need the address, Clara. I need to go see his grandparents, and I need to do it now.”

Clara slid a piece of paper across her kitchen table, grimacing as she did so. Finnley gripped her fingers briefly as she took it and realized that Clara’s hands were cold and trembling. She wanted to tell her that everything would be okay, but the only way to do that was to agree not to go, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that she was going to do that. She had come too far, learned too much for her to back down now.

“Finnley—”

“I know you don’t want me to go. I know it’s probably not even the smart thing to do, but I’ve got to. Do you understand? Please, tell me that you do. Tell me that you would feel the exact same way if it were you.”

“I would. I know I would, but you know how close I came to being killed last year for following leads I should have left alone. I don’t want that to happen to you. I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt and it was my fault.”

“Even if something did happen, it would never be your fault. You can’t think that way.”

“Oh, believe me, I can and I will. Will you at least take Weston with you? He’s willing to go. He says it’s the only halfway sane way to approach this. Please bring him with you, Finnley, please.”

But Finnley was already getting to her feet, shaking her head briskly before downing her whole cup of coffee. It was probably the smart thing to do, but that didn’t matter to her anymore. Her stubbornness was in full force, and she was bound and determined to see this thing through on her own.

“Just be careful, okay?” Clara called after her as she made her swift exit. “Don’t make me regret giving you that address!”

By the time Finnley’s cab pulled up to the rundown, unassuming little house matching the address on Finnley’s slip of paper, she was hardly able to control her nerves any longer. No coffee and no sleep only served to compound the rapid heartbeat and foggy head she was suffering, and she couldn’t help asking herself if this was going too far. Even for her, even after everything she had already done to try to come to the end of the Wallace family mystery, she wasn’t sure that this was pushing things past the limits. It was almost enough to make her ask the driver to turn around and take her back home, but when he asked her what she was waiting for, she paid him his fair and got out. For a moment, she only stood there and looked at the house all but frozen in place. It was still far too early in the morning to pay any kind of conventional visit and what she had planned for Garrett’s parents was anything but conventional. She hesitated where she stood, wondering if she should come back later, and only moved up the front walk when she saw the blinds in one of the front windows move. It was a subtle movement, but it was enough to let her know that the house’s occupants weren’t sleeping.

“Well, I won’t be waking them up with my questions. I guess that’s something, although they’re probably still going to hate me,” she muttered to herself as she hurried towards the front door, hoping to instill herself with some kind of courage. By the time she lifted her hand to knock, she had yet to find it. She had no idea how these people were going to respond to her and what she wanted. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know whose side they were on.

“Hello? Hello, who is it out there?”

“My name is Finnley, ma’am.”

“Do I know you? I don’t think I do. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Finnley before.”

“No, ma’am, you don’t know me. But I know your son, sort of. More importantly I know your grandson.”

The voice on the other side of the door stopped responding to her, and she could hear frantic whispering on the other side of the door. They were trying to decide what to do about her, trying to decide whether or not to trust her enough to open their front door, and Finnley didn’t blame them one bit. Whether they were allies of Garrett’s father or victims, having somebody show up at their front door and invoke the Wallace name had to be a shock.

“I can go, if you like. I only wanted to talk to you. I’m trying to help Garrett, to look out for him. I promise that’s all I’m doing, but I can go. I don’t want to trouble you guys.”

“You already got through that part where you troubled us, young lady” a male voice spoke up as the sound of the deadbolt chain rattling began. “Everything that happens now is just the aftermath. Hold on.”

The door swung open and Finnley found herself face to face with two people who looked exactly like they belonged in Garrett’s family. He looked so much like them that it made it all the more heartbreaking that he had never met them. He had his grandmother’s eyes, his grandfather’s height and strong jaw. The resemblance was so strong that she felt the tears that had been threatening for the last twenty-four hours well up again, only this time she wasn’t able to keep them at bay. Garrett’s grandmother reached out for her and despite the look of caution it drew from her husband, pulled her inside.

“Whatever can be the matter, dear? Was it Bernard’s harsh words? Please don’t pay him any mind. He’s very protective of me, that’s all.”

“Moira, don’t—”

“Don’t what? Don’t be hospitable? If you think that’s going to happen, Bernard Wallace, the last fifty-five years of marriage have taught you nothing. Come dear, come with me. I’ll pour you some tea. I would say coffee, but you don’t look like you need any more caffeine. I think chamomile would do the trick.”

Finnley followed closely behind Moira, keenly aware of the fact that Bernard was following closely behind her. In a whirlwind, she was led into the Wallace’s kitchen and directed into a seat at the kitchen table. Looking around, she saw that this kitchen was exactly what she would expect when she thought about the typical grandparents’ home. Everything about their home was that way, and it made the impulse to cry even worse. In her mind, she could see a different kind of visit, one where she and Garrett came together and got to know these people. They would sit and share a meal, maybe have a beer or two while they watched whatever sports game was one. They would visit like normal people did, and everything would feel like home.

“I’ve gotta ask you now, miss. Are you here because my son sent you? Because if you are you can get back up and see yourself out.”

“Bernard!” Moira exclaimed, so startled by his abruptness that she almost spilled hot tea all over Finnley’s lap.

“I know, Moira, I’m not being polite, but it’s got to be asked. We’ve done everything that boy asked us to do. There’s no reason for him to sic somebody on us now.”

“It’s alright,” Finnley smiled, “I’m not offended. It’s exactly the kind of thing I would ask if I were you. But no, your son didn’t send me. He kind of did the opposite, actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“I work for a company called Cubed. It’s sort of a computer-sleuthing company, or at least it was before your son bought it.”

“He’s got your company? Well then, I hate to tell you, girlie, but you better get out while you can. If he wants your Cubed for something, it’ll only mean trouble for any of you who are law abiding. Our son hasn’t done anything for the right reasons for a very long time.”

“That was sort of the impression I got. Which is why my friends and I started looking into him. It wasn’t easy and not exactly legal, but we got found some pretty awful and alarming stuff on him. We also found out about the two of you still being alive, which nobody seemed to know. Garrett definitely didn’t know.”

“How is he?” Moira interjected, her hands wringing and twisting in front of her. “How’s our grandson? We’ve only ever seen pictures of him and not any in a good long while.”

“He’s okay. He’s struggling with all of this. He’s struggling to learn who his father is.”

“Anybody would with a father like that,” Bernard agreed, arms folded in front of him and a pained look on his face, “so I can’t say I blame him. I have to ask, though, with all of the information you claim to have found on our son, what brings you here? I’m not sure what we can do for you, I guess I’m saying.”

“Honestly? You two are one of the pieces of the puzzle I can’t figure out. I don’t understand why Garrett’s dad is telling everyone that the two of you are dead, but I also don’t understand why you’re going along with it. Why don’t you just come out and tell people the truth about him? It sounds like you could easily get him thrown in jail if you wanted to, and I’ve got a friend who was a detective up until very recently.”

“We can’t do that,” Moira said quickly, her face now completely, pale. “It’s out of the question.”

“But why? What does he have to hold over you?”

“Besides the mafia, you mean?”

“Right, but I don’t think they’d be loyal enough to him to come after you once he was taken down. I was talking to my friend about that. The mob loyalty only extends so far for an outsider, and even after all of these years, an outsider is still what he is.”

“It’s more than that. It’s about more than our own safety. It’s not what he has to hold over us, it’s who. He made it very clear. If we ever tried to go to the authorities, he would have Garrett killed. We may not be able to meet our grandson, but we won’t be the reason that he comes to harm.”

It was the stunning last piece to the puzzle, and it made Finnley physically sick. Out of all of the disgusting things Garrett’s father had done, this was the absolute worst. It was also something she had to tell Garrett as quickly as humanly possible. Even if Garrett never talked to her again for her continued meddling, she had to make him see what kind of a monster his father was. It was the only thing on her mind as she said her quick thank yous and goodbyes. She practically ran out of their house and to the sidewalk outside, moving rapidly down the street as she repeatedly tried to get in touch with Garrett. She had to get to him, and as she frantically waved her hand in the air for a cab, she planned out her next move. She was so distracted that she didn’t sense the man coming up behind her. She only had time to give half a cry of pain and surprise before the hard hit he delivered to the back of her head knocked her out.