Chương 7
“Five minutes ago somebody hadn’t put something inside your house.”
“It’s not inside.”
“It crossed the threshold.”
Evan dialed.
Mara crouched several feet away from the envelope and looked at the handwriting.
The letters were blocky and uneven.
Not childish.
Someone pretending to write like a child.
Her name had been pressed so hard into the paper that the M had nearly torn through.
Evan gave the dispatcher the address, described the person in the backyard, the photograph, the envelope, and Caleb’s disappearance.
He left out Halcyon Bridge until Mara touched his elbow and shook her head.
“Tell them everything.”
Rebecca said, “Not everything.”
Mara turned on her.
Rebecca lifted both hands.
“The drive stays out of it until we know what’s on it.”
“You don’t represent me anymore.”
“No, but I remain capable of recognizing a terrible idea.”
Evan covered the phone.
“My brother may be in danger because of what’s on that drive.”
“And if you hand the only copy to the first officer through the door, you may never control where it goes again.”
Mara touched the flash drive through her sweatshirt.
“Is Caleb on it?”
Rebecca’s face gave no answer.
The dispatcher asked Evan another question, and he moved toward the living room to hear better.
Mara looked down at the crayon again.
Blue room.
Blue crayon.
Too obvious.
Whoever had left it wanted her frightened, not informed.
That realization steadied her more than it should have.
Fear was easier to tolerate when she could see somebody working to manufacture it.
“Who benefits if I remember?” she asked.
Rebecca’s gaze sharpened.
“That assumes you forgot.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“That someone wants you to believe you forgot.”
Mara glanced at the envelope.
“Lucy.”
“Yes.”
“The photographs.”
“Yes.”
“The medical billing record.”
Rebecca hesitated.
“That one I believe is authentic.”
“Why?”
“Caleb had two independent copies from different archives.”
Mara stood.
“So somebody is mixing real things with fake things.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Why?”
“Because lies are easier to reject when they come alone.”
Sirens were still distant when Mara’s phone rang.
Daniel.
She nearly declined it.
Then she remembered Rebecca saying Daniel had told her Mara was home.
She answered.
“Where are you?”
Daniel did not say hello.
Mara looked at Rebecca.
“Why?”
“Because two police cars just passed me heading toward your neighborhood.”
“How would you know they’re coming here?”
Silence.
Mara’s grip tightened.
“Daniel.”
“I’m three blocks away.”
“Why?”
“I was coming over.”
“At ten at night?”
“You weren’t answering.”
“So you drove here?”
“You fired off six messages about changing the settlement and then disappeared.”
Mara frowned.
“I sent you one message.”
Rebecca’s head came up.
Daniel said, “What?”
“One.”
“You sent six.”
“Read them.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
He exhaled with the familiar irritation that had once made Mara apologize simply to end conversations.
“Fine.”
She heard a turn signal clicking.
Then Daniel read, “‘I found out what you did.’”
Mara’s stomach tightened.
“I didn’t send that.”
Daniel stopped.
Rebecca moved closer.
“Keep going,” Mara said.
“‘Don’t contact Rebecca.’”
Rebecca’s mouth flattened.
“Next.”
“‘I know about Bellweather.’”
Mara closed her eyes.
Daniel stopped reading.
The turn signal kept clicking.
“Tell me what Bellweather is.”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why were you coming here?”
“Because the last message said if I wanted to save my marriage, I should come alone.”
Mara almost laughed.
“Our marriage is over.”
“Yes, Mara, I had noticed.”
Despite everything, the old dryness in his voice was so recognizably Daniel that she believed him for one dangerous second.
Headlights swept across the front window.
Rebecca moved away from it.
Evan returned from the living room.
“Police are here.”
Mara said into the phone, “Where are you?”
“Turning onto your street.”
“Don’t.”
Too late.
A car door slammed outside.
Then another.
Blue light flickered through the blinds.
Daniel said, “What the hell is happening?”
“Stay in your car.”
Mara ended the call.
Evan looked through the doorbell feed.
“Two officers.”
“Daniel’s outside too.”
“Your ex?”
“Unfortunately still.”
Rebecca whispered, “Someone brought him here.”
Mara looked at the envelope.
“No.”
She thought of the messages sent from her number.
“They brought all of us here.”
The officers separated Daniel from the front walk before Mara opened the door.
A woman in uniform instructed everyone to remain inside while her partner checked the yard.
Mara showed her the photograph through the screen rather than forwarding it.
Officer Patel, according to the nameplate, did not object.
She was perhaps forty, with tired eyes and the calm manner of someone who had already spent her shift being lied to.
“Who has access to your phone?”
“No one.”
“Cloud account?”
“I changed the password after my separation.”
Daniel, visible beyond Patel’s shoulder, said, “I never had it.”
Patel turned.
“I’m speaking with her.”
Daniel lifted his hands.
Mara experienced a petty flicker of satisfaction.
It lasted less than a second.
Patel examined the envelope without touching it.
“You know who left this?”
“No.”
“Doorbell camera catch anything?”
Mara opened the app.
The most recent clip showed Rebecca arriving.
Nothing after that.
Patel frowned.
“Motion recording enabled?”
“Yes.”
“Battery?”
“Eighty-one percent.”
Evan said, “Someone disabled it.”
Patel glanced at him.
“Or it failed.”
“It didn’t fail when Rebecca arrived.”
“That doesn’t establish tampering.”
Evan’s jaw tightened.
Mara understood his frustration, but she also understood Patel.
They had a missing man, anonymous texts, a shadow in a yard, and an envelope nobody had opened.
To them it was a conspiracy.
To Patel it was Tuesday with paperwork.
The second officer returned from the backyard.
“No one out there.”
“Gate?”
“Unlatched.”
Mara said, “I locked it this afternoon.”
Daniel spoke from the porch.
“You never lock that gate.”
She looked at him.
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I did today.”
“Why?”
Mara almost told him about Lucy.
Then she saw Rebecca watching Daniel.
May you like
“Because I felt like it.”
Daniel gave her the look he used whenever he believed she was making something unnecessarily difficult.
