Thomas Parker stood beneath the barn light with both hands visible.
He was older than the photograph had suggested. His hair was almost completely white, and the left side of his face carried a thin scar that disappeared beneath his collar. He wore a faded canvas jacket despite the warm evening, and his boots were coated with the pale dust of the county road.
June remained beside the deputy.
“You’re Thomas?”
He looked at her for several seconds.
“You look like your grandmother.”
June did not answer.
Mercer stepped forward.
“Mr. Parker, we need you to come with us.”
Thomas gave a tired smile.
“If you wanted me arrested, you should have done it before I walked out.”
“That isn't what I said.”
“No. It isn't.”
He looked past Mercer toward the farmhouse.
“Your grandfather kept that place cleaner than I remember.”
June followed his gaze.
“You've been inside?”
“Today.”
“Where is my father?”
Thomas's expression tightened.
“That's the question I was hoping you could answer.”
June took one step forward.
“You were with him.”
“For part of the afternoon.”
“And now?”
“Now I'm not.”
“Why?”
Thomas looked at the deputy.
“Because Robert made a choice.”
Mercer folded his arms.
“What choice?”
Thomas reached inside his jacket.
The deputy immediately raised a hand.
“Slowly.”
Thomas removed a black ledger.
June recognized it before anyone spoke.
The cover was cracked along the spine. A brass clasp held the pages together.
“Harold's ledger,” she said.
Thomas nodded.
“Your grandfather kept records in this for decades.”
“Where did you get it?”
“From Robert.”
June stared at him.
“You took it from my father?”
“No.”
Thomas held the ledger out.
“He gave it to me.”
Mercer did not take it.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted me to finish something Harold started.”
June looked at the farmhouse.
“What?”
Thomas's gaze dropped to the ledger.
“Find the page Robert removed.”
The deputy moved closer.
“Which page?”
“Page 117.”
June felt a chill despite the heat.
“What was on it?”
Thomas looked directly at her.
“Your name.”
The ledger was taken to the sheriff's vehicle for examination.
Thomas agreed to accompany them, but before he left, June stopped him.
“You said Grandpa kept records for decades.”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
“Everything he believed might someday be denied.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He recorded loans. Property transfers. Threats. Promises. Family agreements. Things people told him in confidence.”
“Why would he keep a record of threats?”
“Because he learned early that people remember themselves differently once money is involved.”
June looked down.
“What did Robert want from him?”
Thomas took a breath.
“The ledger wasn't about money.”
“What was it about?”
“Ownership.”
Mercer turned.
“Explain.”
Thomas looked at him.
“Harold and I inherited land from our father. But there was another asset.”
“What asset?”
“An underground water right.”
Mercer frowned.
Thomas continued.
“The right was attached to several parcels. At the time, nobody thought it mattered. Decades later, the area developed. The value became enormous.”
June understood.
“The farm.”
“Partly.”
Thomas said the water rights extended beneath land Harold had sold years ago.
The buyer had paid Harold for the surface property but had not acquired every underlying right.
“Harold retained them.”
“Why?”
“Because he expected someone would eventually discover what they were worth.”
June looked at the ledger.
“And Robert found out.”
“Yes.”
“Dale?”
Thomas nodded.
“Dale discovered the old filings while researching development permits.”
June closed her eyes.
The forged transfer suddenly made sense.
Dale's company wasn't interested in tractors or contracting.
It wanted the water rights.
“And Thomas?”
Thomas looked away.
“Robert found me because he needed the original family documents.”
June stared at him.
“You helped him.”
“I thought I was helping myself.”
His honesty sounded worse than an excuse.
“What did he promise you?”
“A share.”
June's voice hardened.
“How much?”
“Enough to make an old man believe he had another chance.”
Thomas looked toward the fields.
“I was wrong.”
The sheriff's vehicle pulled away with the ledger.
Mercer remained.
“Why did Robert leave you?”
Thomas's jaw tightened.
“Because I refused to give him the final page.”
“What was on it?”
“Proof that Harold had already transferred the water rights into the trust.”
June looked at Vernon.
“Then Robert couldn't get them.”
“Not legally,” Vernon said.
“Unless he forged the trust documents.”
“Exactly.”
The pieces finally connected.
Robert had not been chasing millions.
He had been chasing one particular asset worth far more than anyone in the family realized.
The water rights.
And Harold had placed them beyond reach.
June's phone rang.
The screen showed an unknown number.
She answered.
“June Parker?”
“Yes.”
“This is Robert.”
Her father's voice sounded strained.
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Listen to me. You need to leave the farm.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas is lying to you.”
June looked at Thomas.
He heard every word.
Robert continued.
“He knows what Harold did.”
“What did Grandpa do?”
“He trapped all of us.”
June's voice remained controlled.
“How?”
“He put everything into a trust you cannot control.”
“I already know.”
Silence.
“You signed it?”
“Yes.”
“June, don't.”
“Why?”
“Because once you sign, you become responsible for everything.”
“That sounds like Grandpa.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
Robert's breathing changed.
“You don't understand who Thomas is.”
“I understand who you are.”
Silence.
Then Robert whispered:
“You should ask Vernon what happened in 1984.”
The call ended.
June looked at Vernon.
“What happened in 1984?”
Vernon did not answer immediately.
Thomas did.
“Harold didn't tell you everything.”
June stared at him.
“What else?”
Thomas looked toward the darkening fields.
“Your grandfather wasn't the only person who signed away his rights.”
“Who did?”
“Me.”
June waited.
“I signed away my share because I believed Harold had protected me from creditors.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Thomas looked at her.
“He hadn't.”
The sheriff's radio crackled.
Mercer answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at June.
“The ledger is incomplete.”
“How?”
“Page 117 is missing.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Robert took it.”
Mercer asked where Robert might have gone.
Thomas gave the answer.
“The old pump station.”
June knew the place.
Harold had shown it to her once when she was sixteen. An abandoned concrete structure beyond the western field where an old irrigation system had been buried decades earlier.
“Why would he go there?”
Thomas looked at her.
“Because page 117 isn't the only thing hidden there.”
June's heart began pounding.
“What is?”
Thomas hesitated.
“A box.”
“What box?”
“The original deed.”
Mercer reached for his radio.
June was already walking toward her truck.
“No.”
Mercer caught up.
“You're not going alone.”
“I didn't say I was.”
She looked back at me.
“Come with me.”
Thomas stepped forward.
“So am I.”
Mercer shook his head.
“You stay here.”
Thomas stopped.
Then he smiled sadly.
“I've spent forty years staying away from that farm.”
He looked toward the western horizon.
“I think I've earned the right to see what my brother left behind.”
Click Here to continue read next: PART6: The Hidden Pump Station Held the Original Deed, but the Missing Page Revealed a Betrayal Harold Had Never Told June About
The Will Made Everyone Angry, but the Envelope With June’s Name on It Suggested Grandpa Had Prepared for Something Much Worse
Part 5 of 8
