Chapter 4 - NINETEEN YEARS AGO
Mark didn’t move.
“Who is this?”
The voice laughed.
“You still ask too many questions.”
The line went dead.
Dylan stared at his father.
“The first time?”
Mark put the phone away.
“Not here.”
They drove to his repair shop.
Mark locked the front door.
Then the back.
Only after every blind was closed did he speak.
“Adam was seventeen.”
Same age as Dylan.
“He hated bullies. Teachers. Coaches. Anybody who used power to push people around.”
Jake glanced at Maya.
“So basically he would’ve hated this place.”
Mark almost smiled.
“Yeah.”
Then it vanished.
“One night, Adam called me. Said he’d found proof some teachers were taking money from students.”
Maya leaned forward.
“Nineteen years ago?”
Mark nodded.
“He said grades were being sold. Suspensions were being erased. Kids with rich parents could make problems disappear.”
Jake felt a chill.
“That’s exactly what’s happening now.”
“I know.”
“What did Adam do?”
“He went to Principal Voss.”
Dylan frowned.
“Voss wasn’t principal nineteen years ago.”
“No.”
Mark stared at the floor.
“He was a guidance counselor.”
Nobody spoke.
Mark continued.
“Adam disappeared the next night.”
Dylan’s face tightened.
“What do you mean disappeared?”
“His car was found near the old quarry.”
Jake already knew the story.
Every kid in town knew that quarry.
Steep drop.
Deep water.
“Did they find him?”
“Two days later.”
The room went silent.
Mark swallowed.
“The police called it an accident.”
“But you didn’t believe them,” Maya said.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Adam hated that quarry. His best friend drowned there when they were kids.”
Dylan looked devastated.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“Because I spent years trying to prove something I couldn’t prove.”
Mark opened an old metal cabinet.
From the bottom drawer, he pulled out a taped cardboard box.
ADAM.
Inside were newspaper clippings.
Photos.
Old school records.
One VHS tape.
And a red notebook.
Mark opened it.
Pages of names.
Dollar amounts.
Dates.
Initials.
Jake recognized one immediately.
R.H.
“Robert Harlan?”
Mark nodded.
“He was a student teacher back then.”
Maya whispered, “Jesus.”
Then Jake saw another set of initials.
D.V.
“Voss.”
Mark nodded again.
Dylan’s breathing grew shallow.
“So they’ve been doing this for nineteen years?”
“Maybe longer.”
Maya flipped through the notebook.
Then she stopped.
A page had been torn out.
Cleanly.
“What was here?”
Mark stared at the missing page.
“I don’t know.”
“Was it always missing?”
Mark shook his head.
“No.”
Jake looked toward the shop door.
“You mean someone has been inside this box?”
Mark reached underneath the newspaper clippings.
His hand froze.
“What?”
“The tape.”
“What about it?”
Mark looked up.
“There were two.”
At that exact moment, something slammed into the front window.
Glass exploded across the floor.
A brick rolled to Jake’s feet.
Tied around it was a piece of paper.
Mark picked it up.
May you like
Three words were written in black marker.
LAST WARNING, MARK.
