Chapter 5 - Owen CallsMy brother Owen called from Oklahoma.
Seventeen now.
His voice deeper than I remembered.
“Mara?”
“Hey.”
“Dad doesn't know I'm calling.”
Of course.
Owen still lived with him.
“What happened?”
“Dad saw video.”
“I know.”
“He freaked out.”
“Why?”
“He started calling Uncle Nathan.”
My stomach tightened.
“Are they in contact?”
“All the time.”
Dad told me Nathan moved away after center closed.
Owen continued.
“They met last night.”
“Where?”
“Dad's office.”
“What did you hear?”
A pause.
“Mara, I think they're scared of fire investigation.”
I stood.
“What exactly?”
“Dad said, ‘If Grant finds original invoices, we're finished.’”
I closed eyes.
“Did you record?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Owen sounded confused.
“Good?”
“Don't put yourself in danger trying to become investigator.”
He was seventeen.
My brother.
Not evidence collector.
“Tell police if they contact you. Otherwise stay out.”
He went quiet.
“You sound like Mom.”
That hurt.
Then he said:
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“Dad keeps a locked metal box in the basement.”
“Okay.”
“He moved it after your video went viral.”
“Do not touch it.”
“Mara—”
“Promise.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
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I trusted him approximately forty percent.
Enough to worry.
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