CHAPTER TEN — THE FIFTH ADDRESS

Carol appeared on Daniel’s porch Tuesday afternoon holding a grocery bag.
Inside were three old notebooks, a package of adhesive labels, and a folded map of the region.
“I should have given these to the agents,” she said.
“Then why bring them here?”
“Because I don’t know how to tell them what I did without sounding as guilty as I am.”
Daniel invited her to sit outside while he called Ortiz.
Carol watched him dial and did not protest.
She explained that she had once received a crate containing five memorial objects but only four shipping references.
The fifth item was a painted wooden bird inside a blue cloth pouch.
Its original tag had been covered with a second label bearing the name of a customer who had never ordered anything.


Carol removed the newer label and found a childlike drawing of a maple leaf underneath.
She had stored the bird in her linen closet rather than return it to Grane.
“I didn’t tell anyone because he kept changing the explanation,” she said.
“Then I was ashamed of how long I had kept it.”
Daniel asked where the bird was now.
Carol’s expression broke.
“I gave it back to him last Friday.”
“Why?”
“He said the child’s family had finally been found.”
“I wanted that to be true.”
She opened one notebook and pointed to the line where she had written the bird’s dimensions, colors, and date of delivery.
Beside the entry was a new note: Blue van, Tuesday, fourth stop.
Daniel could not tell whether the notation referred to a collection route or a destination.


Carol explained that one of the drivers had left a route sheet inside a plastic sleeve.
She copied the entries because she suspected Grane was moving the items among several storage locations.
There were four addresses in the region and a fifth across the state line.
When Ortiz arrived, Carol handed her the notebooks without bargaining.
Sethi joined by telephone and confirmed that the first four addresses were connected to businesses associated with Meridian Handling.
The fifth was registered to an empty agricultural supply depot.
Ortiz looked up sharply.
“How long have you had this?”
“Three weeks,” Carol admitted.
“I told myself it couldn’t be important because nobody had asked me for it.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You knew somebody was moving things and still broke my camera?”
“I thought the driver was going to blame me,” she said.
“The camera might have shown every box.”
“That’s exactly why it mattered.”
Carol looked away.
“I know that now.”
Ortiz collected the material and asked Carol to report any contact from Grane immediately.
She warned that the notebooks might help establish when certain objects had been transferred, but they could not replace a proper investigation.
Carol nodded.
After the agents left, Daniel noticed that Carol had stayed seated on the porch.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” she said.
“I want to help find the remaining items.”
“Then tell the agents everything you know, even when it makes you look bad.”
Carol stood slowly.
“That’s the part I keep trying not to do.”
She crossed the lawn without another word.
Daniel watched her go and realized he was angrier about the weeks of silence than about his camera.
The camera could be replaced in ten minutes.
Nobody could return the hours the families had spent wondering what became of their loved ones’ work.