The man in the photograph was his father. Younger, serious, wearing an ID badge half-hidden beneath his jacket. Evan stared, the shock numbing his limbs. Calder’s expression twisted—fear, anger, calculation. “Why do you meddle so much?” Calder.
“You worked with my father?” Evan asked, voice shaking. Calder said nothing, just reached again for the papers with a frantic edge he couldn’t hide. Evan stepped back, pieces clicking together in sickening slow motion. This storage unit wasn’t Calder’s. This evidence wasn’t Calder’s. It all belonged to his father!