Chapter 13 - What Pike Kept
Pike kept the silver capsule in a locked drawer beneath the extra bus schedules.
He had moved it three times in six years. The drawer was the fourth location, chosen because no one searched the desk of a man who spent his days answering complaints about late buses.
Mara found him there after midnight.
“You have a key,” she said.
Pike did not ask how she had entered. “I have several.”
He removed the capsule and placed it on the desk.
It was smaller than Mara expected, no bigger than her thumb. A red thread was tied around its middle.
“That belonged to June,” Elias said from the doorway.
Pike looked at him. “You brought him.”
“He came.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Talia stood behind Mara. Jace and Devon waited in the corridor, where the building’s motion lights turned on and off without reason.
“You knew June was going to expose Calder,” Mara said.
“Yes.”
“You knew about the attack at the bus stop.”
“I knew Calder wanted the archive key.”
“You disabled my camera.”
“I authorized Sloane’s work order.”
“You put my passengers in danger.”
Pike looked at the capsule. “I believed the danger was already there.”
“That is what people say when they decide someone else can absorb it.”
His face tightened.
“You are right,” he said.
The agreement made Mara angrier.
“Why did you take the capsule?”
“Because Sloane handed it to me.”
“He says you took it.”
“Both can be true.”
Pike opened the capsule. Inside was a microcassette wrapped in wax paper.
“June recorded Vale in the Northline materials office,” he said. “She left the recorder running while she copied invoices. Vale came in and ordered the substitution.”
“Why not release it?” Elias asked.
“Because the tape did not prove who changed the shipment.”
“It proved who ordered it.”
“The tape is damaged. There is a gap. His lawyer would call the voice unidentified.”
“You had fifteen years to repair the gap.”
“I spent fifteen years trying to keep the remaining people alive.”
“June died.”
Pike’s eyes closed.
“Yes.”
No one spoke for several seconds.
“Tell us about the brakes,” Talia said.
Pike looked at her and seemed to see the infant June had placed in Ruth’s arms, not the young woman standing in a yellow raincoat.
“The car had been inspected that morning,” he said. “The brakes were fine. After June died, the mechanic found the line had been cut.”
“Why was there no report?”
“Because I told him there had been an accident.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“For Calder?”
“For you.”
Talia’s expression hardened. “You didn’t know me.”
“I knew where you lived. I knew Ruth had taken you in. Vale knew too.”
“So you let my mother die to protect me?”
“I let the people who killed her believe I had accepted their terms.”
“And did you?”
Pike looked toward the corridor. “Eventually.”
Elias stepped forward. “You took her evidence.”
“I took the tape to keep Calder from finding it.”
“You also hid it from me.”
“You were drinking every night. You had signed the report.”
“I signed because you told me the revisions were harmless.”
“I told you the revisions would keep the county from being sued.”
“Two men were dead.”
“I know.”
Pike’s voice cracked on the word. He steadied himself against the desk.
“I had a daughter too,” he said.
Mara looked at him.
“She was eleven when Northline failed. Calder paid for her medical treatment after an accident. They reminded me of that every time I tried to leave.”
“You had choices,” Mara said.
“I did.”
“You made them.”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t call what happened to June protection.”
Pike nodded once. “It was fear. Protection was the name I used so I could sleep.”
Talia took the capsule. “What is the missing part?”
“The archive room has a transcript. June made one before she died.”
“Why did Sloane take the key?”
“He thought he could trade it for his pension.”
“And you?”
“I thought I could trade the capsule for time.”
“For whom?”
Pike looked at Elias, then at Mara. “For everyone.”
Mara almost laughed. “You are not allowed to save everyone after choosing silence.”
“No.”
He removed a ring of keys from his pocket and placed it beside the capsule.
“Northline’s service entrance will be unguarded tomorrow night. The demolition company has begun moving equipment. I can get you into the station.”
“Why help us now?”
May you like
Pike looked at the old schedules on the wall. “Because I am tired of calling survival a clean account.”
Outside, a bus passed without stopping. Its empty windows reflected the office lights like rows of pale eyes.
