But someone used that door code twice during the window he claimed he was sleeping.
That was the second crack.
On the drive home, I kept hearing Gabriel’s voice from the week before the trip.
“When I get back, we need to talk about something Nick asked me for.”
So that night, after the girls were asleep, I went through Gabriel’s desk.
Nick’s name beside them again and again.
In the back of one drawer, inside a fishing manual, I found a note card covered in numbers.
Loan amounts.
Dates.
Nick’s name beside them again and again.
The oldest amount went back six years.
The newest was from three months before Gabriel disappeared.
That weekend was supposed to be one last chance to talk him into it.
Some had check marks beside them.
Beside the largest one, Gabriel had written, “No more.”
The truth came together in an ugly, yet ordinary way. Nick had been borrowing money from Gabriel for years. Gabriel had helped him, covered him, probably lied for him. Then Nick asked for more, and this time Gabriel said no. That weekend was supposed to be one last chance to talk him into it.
I brought the note card to the deputy the next morning.
By afternoon, Nick was being questioned again.
This time he did not look patient with me.
He looked focused.
By afternoon, Nick was being questioned again.
Then again the next day.
He could not explain the jacket in his garage, the old phone in its pocket, or the photo that put Gabriel behind the cabin before the storm existed.
State investigators got involved.
He tried to say Gabriel might have come back to the cabin without waking him, but that only made the rest worse. Why lie about the storm coming so early? Why say Gabriel went straight to the water? Why keep pushing me to accept an accident?
The case was reopened.
State investigators got involved.
The deputy later told me they were pulling bank records with a warrant. If the note card matched Gabriel’s accounts, it would show a pattern, not just one favor between brothers. It would show pressure. It would show motive.
I was done taking pieces from him.
Nick called me once from an unknown number after his second interview.
“You think you know what this means, but you don’t,” he said.
I hung up.
