Chapter 6 - MAX
Search teams returned to the quarry after spring rain lowered water in one excavation pit.
A cadaver dog alerted near a collapsed drainage culvert.
Investigators found animal remains wrapped in an old moving blanket.
A veterinary forensic specialist confirmed the remains belonged to a medium-sized dog consistent with Max’s breed and age.
The microchip settled it.
Harris had killed Wyatt’s dog.
The cause could not be determined with complete certainty because of decomposition, but one fractured skull bone suggested blunt trauma.
Wyatt was not told every detail.
Dr. Moreno and Rachel prepared him.
“Police found Max,” I said.
“Alive?”
“No.”
He looked at my face for a long time.
“Did Luke do it?”
“Evidence connects him to taking Max and the quarry. The court will determine criminal responsibility.”
“Did Max think I left him?”
“I don’t know.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
Wyatt’s grief emerged as anger.
He threw a cup.
Kicked the barn door.
Tore the curtain from his bedroom.
Then froze, waiting for punishment.
I picked up the cup.
“No one is locking you anywhere.”
“I broke it.”
“It was metal.”
“I’m bad.”
“You are grieving and angry. We still repair what we damage.”
He helped rehang the curtain the next day.
Not as payment for safety.
Because shared homes required care.
The prosecutor added an animal-cruelty charge against Harris, though the more serious cases remained Evan’s death and Wyatt’s confinement.
Public attention intensified.
People sent toys, food, and money.
Some gifts were kind.
Others included letters asking Wyatt to pose for photographs or endorse charities.
One online fundraiser used his hospital image without permission.
Rachel obtained removal orders where possible and froze the account.
The trust court appointed Northern Plains Fiduciary to manage all donations and Wyatt’s inherited property.
I did not control the money.
That decision offended relatives who believed family should manage family assets.
I supported it.
Property had already placed Wyatt underground once.
The trust audit found Marissa had stolen $412,000 from Wyatt’s injury settlement and Evan’s insurance proceeds.
Harris Auto received $173,000 through false repair invoices.
Gordon Pike received $46,000.
Chloe Mercer—Marissa’s cousin, not connected to me—had allowed accounts in her name. She claimed ignorance and repaid what remained after investigators confronted her.
The court restored the trust through frozen assets, insurance claims, and my voluntary repayment of renovation expenses I had charged before discovering Wyatt.
“You improved the house,” the trustee told me. “Those costs may be proper.”
“The house belongs to Wyatt. Let the court decide.”
The trustee did.
Necessary stabilization costs remained charged to the trust. Cosmetic plans became my loss because I began them before title questions were resolved.
Accuracy mattered even when generosity sounded better.
Mason visited most evenings.
Wyatt trusted him because Mason had swung the hammer.
“You broke the floor,” Wyatt said.
“You called us first.”
“I whispered.”
“We listened.”
Mason carried guilt because his crew had worked in the kitchen for twenty minutes before hearing Wyatt. Demolition noise may have drowned him out.
Dr. Moreno warned him too.
“The rescue does not require you to punish yourself for not hearing sooner.”
Mason built Wyatt a small outdoor shelter with three open sides.
“No doors,” Wyatt said.
“No doors.”
They called it the lookout.
Wyatt stored Max’s old red collar there after investigators returned it.
The metal tag was scratched but readable.
MAX MERCER
CALL EVAN
The phone number belonged to my brother’s disconnected line.
I offered to replace it.
“No.”
“Do you want my number added?”
Wyatt considered.
“On another tag.”
We attached a second tag beside the first.
MAX no longer needed anyone to call.
The gesture was for Wyatt.
May you like
One name from before.
One number that answered now.
