Chapter 6 - Peoria
We left for Peoria twenty minutes later.
Rachel wanted police involved immediately. June wanted her children first.
I agreed with June.
Two SUVs followed us, driven by men I trusted outside Victor's chain of command. I spent the three-hour drive calling schools, banks, and department heads, quietly freezing access where I could without alerting the board.
June sat beside me, calling her mother every fifteen minutes.
No answer after the third call.
Her breathing changed.
"Call again."
Voicemail.
"Again."
Nothing.
When we reached the small brick house on Monroe Street, the front door was open.
June ran before the SUV stopped.
"Mom! Lila! Micah!"
I followed.
The living room had been torn apart. Drawers dumped. Couch cushions slashed. Medication scattered across the carpet.
June found her mother, Teresa, in the bedroom closet with the children.
Alive.
Lila launched herself at June. Micah clung to Teresa's sweater.
Teresa's lip was bleeding.
"Two men," she said. "They wanted a blue notebook."
June stared at her. "What notebook?"
Teresa looked confused. "Caleb's. He kept one from work. After he died, I put it with his things."
June went pale.
"I forgot about that."
They searched the attic.
The box was gone.
But Lila tugged June's sleeve.
"Grandma told me to hide the little book."
Everyone turned.
The girl walked to a toy chest and lifted a plastic horse. From inside the hollow body, she pulled a small blue notebook wrapped in a grocery bag.
June covered her mouth.
Caleb's handwriting filled the pages.
Dates. Truck numbers. Payroll codes. Vendor names.
And a repeated set of initials: V.L. and S.C.
Near the back was a page titled IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO ME.
June read it aloud.
"Victor says the money isn't the real business. The payroll theft hides cash moving through freight invoices. Stephen handles the paperwork. They think Marcus doesn't look below the executive reports. They're right."
I felt the words like a punch.
Then Caleb had written one final line.
"Evelyn knows something is wrong. I gave her copies."
My wife had known.
June looked at me.
"Did she ever tell you?"
I could barely speak.
"No."
Rachel turned the page.
Taped to it was a motel key card with a handwritten room number.
May you like
And a date.
The date Evelyn died.
