The name struck something in my memory.
I frowned.
“Pierce?”
Douglas watched my expression.
“You know the name.”
“I think so.”
I closed my eyes.
Then it came back.
“My father.”
“What about him?”
“When I was little, there was a Walter who used to come to the house.”
Lucas leaned forward.
“How often?”
“I don’t know. Once or twice a year, maybe. My mother always made me go upstairs when he visited.”
Douglas and Lucas exchanged a look.
“What?”
Lucas asked, “Did your mother ever say who he was?”
“She said he handled family business.”
My mouth went dry.
“I assumed she meant insurance or my father’s will.”
Lucas reached into the suitcase again.
This time he removed a business card protected inside a plastic sleeve.
WALTER PIERCE
FAMILY LAW
ADOPTIONS — ESTATES — PRIVATE MATTERS
The address was from the town where we’d grown up.
I had walked past that office a thousand times.
