Pete drained his beer and opened a second bottle. Fear was a terrible thing. He knew a thing or two about fear. He’d seen fear and guilt tonight in Andy’s and Amy’s eyes. That fear could translate to any number of things, none of them good.

He would give up everything he held dear if he could turn the clock back to that day at the Judas Grove.

His feet hit the floor with a hard thud. The middle desk drawer held a key to the bottom desk drawer. He used it to open the drawer. The small box in the back was covered with some of his more important papers, which he didn’t want his secretary to see. He knew what it was. How could he forget? He’d worked like a dog collecting bottles and cans to buy the going-away gift for Cady. He opened it and wondered what she would have written in the little diary with the silver key? He tried to remember how many times he’d opened the drawer to look at it. Every single time he’d wondered why he hadn’t just thrown it away. It had gone with him and his meager belongings all through high school, college, and law school. He’d never told Andy or Amy about the diary for fear they would laugh at him. They’d never said if they had bought her a going-away present. They didn’t have anything with them that day. He’d had the diary in the paper sack because it was his turn to bring Kool-Aid and cookies. No, he was almost certain the twins didn’t have a going-away gift. They had no money. It wouldn’t have occurred to either one of them to do what he’d done because that was work. Amy would never pick through garbage, and Andy would have thought it humiliating to scrounge up bottles and cans.

He decided he didn’t really like Andy and Amy very much these days. In retrospect, he wasn’t even sure he’d liked the twins back then either. He also knew both of them would sell him out without the slightest regret if it ever came down to him versus them. Hadn’t Judas done the same thing for thirty pieces of silver?

The diary went back into the drawer. Pete locked it and tossed the key into the middle drawer of his desk before throwing the two empty beer bottles into the trash. Time to head up to the house for the dinner he hoped was warming in the oven. Annie, his housekeeper, always made sure she prepared something that wouldn’t dry out on his late nights. He’d part with his right foot before he would part with Annie because she fussed over him and nursed him when he came down with the flu in the winter. She worried about him the way a mother worried about a son. She also probably made the best coffee and blackberry pie in the state of Pennsylvania.

Pete turned off the lights. It really was a beautiful night, he thought as he locked the door to the office. The dew was heavy on the grass as he walked across the yard to the terrace in the back of his house. The sliding glass door was open, the screen drawn across the opening. He let himself in. He smiled because the family room was so warm and inviting. Annie had helped him find just the right furniture to accommodate his 180-pound frame. You don’t want it too manly in case you entertain ladies from time to time was the deciding vote on the wheat-colored sofa and chairs.