👉 Previous Decision: You chose to confront Agent Gable directly about Harlan O’Rourke’s connection to the land claims.
“Harlan O’Rourke,” Arthur said, pointing a finger at the file in Gable’s pocket. “What’s his name doing on an FBI ledger for a missing persons case?”
Gable’s hand instinctively went to his pocket, covering the file. His lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s irrelevant. O’Rourke is a VA land claims adjuster. His office handles military property transactions. Nothing more.”
Before Arthur could press further, a beat-up Ford pickup rumbled into the driveway. Uncle Silas Pendelton, a man built like a fire hydrant, emerged from the driver’s side. His face was set in a hard, disapproving frown. Aunt Beatrice, thin and sharp-featured, followed, clutching a floral handbag.
Beside them, Harlan O’Rourke himself stepped out, a portly man in a too-tight suit, a nervous smile plastered on his face. He held a stack of official-looking papers.
“Arthur!” Silas boomed, his voice carrying across the yard. “What is all this commotion? You bothering federal agents now?”
“We’re here about Arthur’s behavior,” Aunt Beatrice chimed in, her voice shrill. “He’s been acting very unstable since his father… since Thomas died.” She gestured vaguely at Arthur, then at his studio.
O’Rourke stepped forward, a glint in his eye. “Mr. Pendelton, as a duly authorized representative of the Department of Veterans Affairs, and with the full cooperation of your guardians, I have here papers attesting to your recent… mental distress.” He tapped the documents. “Citing war-related paranoia, inherited from your father, sadly.”
Arthur’s stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“These are committal papers, Arthur,” Silas said, stepping between Arthur and the FBI agent. His face was unyielding. “Your aunt and I, as your legal guardians, have determined it’s best for you and Lily to have some quiet time. Away from all this… radio nonsense.”
“Quiet time?” Arthur felt a surge of cold dread. “You can’t just—”
“The court authorizes immediate seizure of all radio equipment deemed detrimental to your mental well-being,” O’Rourke interjected, his voice bureaucratic. He motioned to the deputies. “That includes the $2,400 worth of audio gear inside this shack.”
Two deputies moved toward the studio. Arthur watched, helpless, as his world was systematically dismantled.
Silas wrapped a heavy hand around Arthur’s arm. “Come on, boy. Lily needs a calm environment.” He gently, but firmly, pried Lily from Arthur’s side and handed her to Beatrice.
“No!” Arthur struggled, but Silas’s grip was like iron. “You can’t do this!”
“It’s for your own good,” Aunt Beatrice said, her eyes already looking at the empty studio with a strange, calculating gleam.
Silas bundled Arthur and Lily into the back of his pickup truck. The studio, the shortwave transmitter, the tapes—all were left behind as they drove deeper into the winding, pine-lined roads, away from the world.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 5 to continue the story
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