Chương 12
“No,” he admitted.
“I’m worried.”
Claire’s anger softened by a fraction.
“So am I.”
They ended the call.
Alexander looked at her phone.
“Do you still have every message from him since January?”
“Yes.”
“Any calls?”
“Voicemails.”
“Threats?”
“Nothing like this.”
“This is not a direct threat either.”
Claire stared at him.
“You have a gift for making terrible things sound less terrible.”
“I’m trying to keep the language accurate.”
“It says people could get hurt.”
“It says before people get hurt.”
“That is supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
Alexander leaned back.
“It matters because we should not claim more than we can prove.”
Claire watched him.
“You’re thinking about police.”
“I’m thinking about documentation.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
Claire looked down at the messages.
“He put his foot in my door.”
“Yes.”
“He kept showing up.”
“Yes.”
“He contacted my boss.”
“Yes.”
“He tied the financing to me changing my account.”
“Yes.”
“And now this.”
“Yes.”
She swallowed.
“How much has to happen before I’m allowed to stop worrying that I’m overreacting?”
Alexander looked at her for a long moment.
“You were allowed to stop worrying about that at the café.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
This time she did not look away.
“I want to go home.”
Alexander nodded.
“I’ll follow you.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Come with me.”
He hesitated.
Claire noticed.
“Not forever.”
“I understood.”
“For the tablet.”
“Yes.”
“And because I don’t want to walk into that house alone right now.”
Alexander looked at her.
Then he nodded.
“All right.”
Claire started the engine.
Before shifting into reverse, she looked at him.
“You said people use brave when they want someone else to accept the cost.”
“Yes.”
“What do you call it when you’re scared and do it anyway?”
Alexander considered the question.
“Tuesday.”
Claire stared at him.
Then she laughed so hard she had to put the car back in park.
They left the parking garage ten minutes later in separate cars, Claire ahead and Alexander following at enough distance that she would not feel escorted.
Traffic was heavier than it should have been for late morning.
A delivery truck blocked one lane near a construction site, and Claire missed a light Alexander made.
For thirty seconds, her car disappeared around the corner.
His pulse jumped before he could stop it.
Then he saw her brake lights two blocks ahead.
Alexander swore quietly at himself.
He had spent years teaching younger officers not to confuse alertness with imagination.
Now he was treating every lost visual like a security failure.
Claire pulled into her driveway at 11:32.
Alexander parked at the curb instead of behind her.
She noticed.
“You planning an escape route?”
“I am avoiding trapping your car.”
“That is much less interesting.”
The house looked exactly as it had on Saturday.
The pink bicycle was upright now.
Someone had dragged the chalk snowman into a new form that resembled either a horse or a damaged chair.
Claire unlocked the front door.
Then she stopped with her hand on the knob.
Alexander waited beside her.
She looked at him.
“This is stupid.”
“What is?”
“I’m afraid to open my own door.”
“That is inconvenient.”
Claire stared at him.
“That was not comforting.”
“I wasn’t trying to tell you your fear was irrational.”
He nodded toward the lock.
“I was trying to keep it ordinary enough that you could still use your key.”
Claire looked at the door again.
Then she opened it.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet only because the girls were at school and Alexander had last seen the place filled with arguments about syrup.
Claire stepped inside.
“Richard never had a key.”
Alexander did not answer.
“He asked for one.”
“When?”
“Before I ended things.”
“You said no?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever borrow yours?”
“No.”
“Did he ever have access to your purse?”
Claire looked at him.
“Probably.”
Alexander removed his coat.
“Probably is not useful.”
“I know.”
She kicked the door shut harder than necessary.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
“That one you can stop doing.”
Claire looked irritated.
“I’m going upstairs.”
“Tablet?”
“Yes.”
Alexander stayed in the entry hall.
He did not follow.
Two minutes later she called his name.
Not loudly.
That was worse.
He went upstairs.
Claire stood in the doorway of what was clearly Sophie’s room.
The walls were pale yellow.
Stuffed animals occupied half the bed.
A plastic crown hung from the lamp.
On a small desk beside the window sat the tablet.
Its screen was dark.
Claire pointed at it.
“I turned it off in January.”
“You’re sure?”
“I held the button until the screen went black.”
Alexander crouched beside the desk without touching the device.
“Black screen is not always off.”
Claire folded her arms.
“I know that now.”
“Do you know the passcode?”
“No.”
“Did Sophie?”
“She used her fingerprint.”
“Did Mercer know the account password?”
“He made the account.”
Claire rubbed both palms against her jeans.
“I let him set up everything because I hate dealing with parental controls.”
“That is a normal reason.”
“It feels less normal today.”
Alexander stood.
“Do not try to unlock it.”
“Why?”
“Because if you are worried about what may be on it, changing settings or signing in could alter something.”
Claire stared at the tablet.
“What exactly do you think he could have done?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could he track it?”
“Possibly.”
“Could he turn on the microphone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Camera?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire looked at him sharply.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I do not know.”
“Then why are you here?”
The question came out harsher than she intended.
Alexander did not react.
Claire closed her eyes.
“Sorry.”
He waited.
She sat on Sophie’s bed.
“I just want one person to tell me what is happening.”
“I can’t.”
“That is the problem.”
“Yes.”
She stared at the floor.
Alexander looked at the tablet again.
May you like
“I know someone who can tell us what to do with it.”
Claire looked up.
