For several seconds, Luke couldn't speak.
Jacob McCall. His grandfather. The man whose name had been spoken in his family with reverence.
The man who had started the investigation. The man whose ledger had become the foundation of everything Luke believed about the McCall legacy.
And now Clara was telling him that Jacob had been part of the very corruption he had supposedly fought.
"No." The word came out quietly.
Clara didn't argue.
Luke looked at the ledger. "My grandfather didn't create this." "Not all of it." "Then what did he do?"
Clara took a breath. "He signed one document."
Luke stared. "One?"
"One document that changed everything."
Patterson stepped closer. "What document?"
Clara looked toward the dark passage leading out of the chamber.
"The first land transfer."
Luke frowned. "That doesn't make sense."
"It will."
Clara pointed toward the ledger. "Your grandfather was a bookkeeper before he became an investigator. He understood numbers, contracts, and property records better than anyone in Belle Rive."
Luke nodded. "I know."
"William Garrison came to him with a proposition."
"What kind?"
"Help the town's poorest families hold onto their farms."
Luke waited.
"Jacob believed him."
Patterson's expression hardened. "He lied."
Clara nodded. "Yes."
"Jacob thought he was helping families refinance their debts."
Luke's eyes moved over the pages. "But the contracts transferred ownership."
"Exactly."
Patterson looked sick. "Jacob signed them?"
"He did."
"Then he was guilty."
Clara shook her head. "At first, he didn't know."
Luke looked at her. "And when he found out?"
"He spent the rest of his life trying to undo what he'd helped begin."
Silence.
Luke turned the pages.
There it was.
The beginning.
The first land transfer.
The first forged signature.
The first family displaced.
The first name written into the ledger.
Then another. And another.
Jacob's handwriting appeared beside several entries.
REPAID.
RETURNED.
PROTECTED.
Then one sentence appeared in darker ink.
I started this. I must finish it.
Luke closed his eyes.
His grandfather hadn't been innocent.
But neither had he been the monster the ledger now made him look like.
He had made one terrible mistake. Then spent his life trying to repair it.
Luke finally understood why his father had never spoken about Jacob in great detail.
Sam hadn't wanted Luke to inherit either the pride or the shame.
He wanted him to inherit the lesson.
Footsteps sounded from above.
Clara looked up. "They know we're here."
Patterson drew his weapon. "Who?"
"I don't know."
Luke closed the ledger. "We're leaving."
Clara shook her head. "No."
Luke looked at her.
"You said yourself someone is listening."
"That's why you can't leave with that."
She pointed to the ledger. "They'll follow you."
Luke held it tightly. "Then let them."
Clara looked at him with something close to admiration. "Your father said exactly the same thing."
The three of them climbed the narrow stairs.
Patterson went first. Luke followed with the ledger tucked beneath his coat. Clara came last.
When they emerged from the underground chamber, the storm had passed.
The moon had broken through the clouds. The river looked almost silver.
Then Patterson stopped.
A flashlight moved between the trees. Someone was there.
"Who's out there?" Patterson called.
No answer.
The light disappeared.
Luke ran toward the trees. He found only footprints.
But beside them lay something else. A piece of paper. He picked it up.
His father's handwriting.
You have found the wrong ledger.
Luke stared.
Patterson took the paper. "What does that mean?"
Luke looked toward the river. "I think..." He swallowed. "...there's another one."
Clara closed her eyes. "Yes."
Luke turned to her.
"How many ledgers did my father make?"
"Two."
Patterson looked at her. "Where is the second?"
Clara's eyes met Luke's. "Your father called it the book of names."
Luke felt the chill return. "What names?"
"Everyone who knew the truth."
"That's not possible."
Clara nodded.
"Your father kept it hidden because the people listed in it weren't all guilty."
She paused.
"Some were witnesses."
"Some were victims."
"And some..."Her voice dropped."...were still alive."
Luke looked toward the road. "Who has the second ledger?"
Clara didn't answer.
Then she whispered: "Someone who has been watching you since the day you came home."