Chương 12
“What doctor thinks you can temporarily declare a child dead?”
Morales drank from his bottle.
“One who may have been promised something, threatened with something, or both.”
“Which?”
“We’re investigating.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Money.”
Morales did not answer.
“What?”
“Julian needed fifty thousand dollars.”
Margaret looked at me.
I continued.
“He borrowed twenty from Margaret last year and asked for fifty more three weeks ago.”
Morales turned to her.
“Is that accurate?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say why?”
“No.”
“Do you have records?”
“Bank transfer for the first amount, texts for the second request.”
“Please preserve them.”
Margaret nodded.
I looked at Morales.
“Find out where the money went.”
His expression told me detectives were already trying.
A movement behind the glass caught my attention.
Chloe was awake again.
She was pointing toward the door.
The nurse came out.
“She wants her grandmother.”
I started toward her.
Then Morales said my name.
I turned.
“There’s one more thing.”
I waited.
“Detectives found a packed suitcase in the trunk of Victoria’s Lexus.”
“Whose?”
“Chloe’s.”
The floor seemed to tilt.
“What was in it?”
“Children’s clothes, medication, a stuffed rabbit, toiletries, and a passport.”
“Chloe has a passport?”
“Yes.”
I had not known.
“Where was Victoria taking her?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“You said Victoria bought a ticket to Phoenix.”
“She did.”
“That was a decoy.”
“It may have been.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“What else was in the car?”
Morales looked at me.
“A second phone.”
“Victoria’s?”
“Registered under a prepaid account.”
“What was on it?”
“They are processing it.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because one message was visible on the lock screen.”
I felt cold before he said it.
“What message?”
“Where are you?”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
He paused.
“The rest said, ‘The grandmother changed everything.’”
For several seconds, I could hear nothing except the blood beating behind my ears.
“Who sent it?”
Morales shook his head.
“The number isn’t saved under a name.”
“But you can trace it.”
“Detectives are working on that.”
“When was the message sent?”
“After Victoria abandoned the vehicle.”
“So someone knows she didn’t get on the plane.”
“It appears that way.”
“And knows about me.”
Morales looked at me without answering.
Margaret folded her arms.
“That narrows the field to half of Chicago by now.”
“No,” I said.
She glanced at me.
“The funeral wasn’t public.”
Morales nodded slowly.
Only family, close friends, and a handful of people from Julian’s office had known I stayed behind at the house.
Most of them believed I had gone home before midnight.
Whoever sent that message knew I had disrupted something.
“Kaminski,” Margaret said.
“Possibly,” Morales replied.
“He knew the plan.”
“Possibly.”
“You say that word when you know more than you can tell us.”
“I say it when there are multiple possibilities.”
I looked through the glass again.
Chloe was waving weakly at me.
Whatever Victoria was doing could wait thirty seconds.
I went inside.
“Why were you taking forever?”
“I had grown-up nonsense.”
“All grown-up stuff is nonsense.”
“That may be the wisest thing anyone has said tonight.”
She shifted carefully beneath the blanket.
“Can I go home tomorrow?”
The question stopped me.
“Probably not tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“They want to make sure your body is okay.”
“It is.”
“Your body disagrees.”
She frowned at her arm as if offended by its betrayal.
“Where do I go after?”
“We’re working on that.”
“With you?”
I sat beside her.
“I hope so.”
“Hope means maybe.”
“Yes.”
She watched my face.
“Why maybe?”
“Because people whose job is protecting children have to make sure my house is safe.”
“Your house is boring.”
“That will look very good on my application.”
“You have that weird toilet.”
“It is not weird.”
“You have to jiggle it.”
“That is a minor engineering feature.”
She smiled.
The smile lasted only a second, but I held on to it.
“I want my pink blanket.”
“The one with stars?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get it.”
“And Mr. Bun.”
I thought about the suitcase in Victoria’s Lexus.
“A stuffed rabbit?”
Chloe nodded.
“Mr. Bun was in Mommy’s car.”
My hand went still.
“How do you know?”
“She packed him.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Did you see her?”
“Yes.”
“Where were you?”
“My room.”
I tried to keep my voice ordinary.
“What did she say?”
“That we were going somewhere.”
“Did she say where?”
“No.”
“Did she say when?”
“After I slept.”
The phrase chilled me.
“Did she pack your passport?”
“What’s that?”
“A little booklet with your picture that lets you travel to other countries.”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you ever seen one?”
“Mommy took my picture at the drugstore.”
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Before Easter.”
That was months before the crisis at school.
The plan had roots deeper than I wanted.
“Did she tell you why?”
“For a surprise.”
“What kind?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
I stopped.
Dana’s warning echoed in my head.
Questions could become their own kind of force.
Chloe noticed.
“Why did you stop?”
“Because I don’t want to make you talk when you’re tired.”
“I’m not tired.”
She yawned.
“Excellent evidence.”
“I’m bored.”
“I can work with bored.”
She pointed toward the television mounted on the wall.
“It only has news.”
“That is cruel.”
“Can I use your phone?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m eighty-seven years old and still believe phones melt children’s brains.”
“You’re not eighty-seven.”
“I appreciate your restraint.”
“How old are you?”
“That information is classified.”
She smiled again.
I found a children’s channel after ten minutes of fighting with the hospital remote.
The cartoon made no sense to me.
A blue dog argued with a sandwich.
Chloe seemed satisfied.
I sat beside her while the characters shouted cheerfully at each other.
For five minutes, I allowed myself not to investigate anything.
Then my phone vibrated.
A text from Renee asked me to step outside when Chloe was settled.
I waited until the cartoon reached a commercial.
“I’ll be right outside.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
May you like
She pointed at me.
“No grown-up hope word.”
