Chương 11
Vincent watched her.
“You recognize it?”
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“I read it.”
“That’s reacting.”
“Mr. Moretti.”
Teresa touched Vincent’s sleeve.
He stopped.
Ortiz handed the phone to one of the officers.
“Send that image to me.”
The officer nodded.
Vincent looked at the brass key again.
“If Rebecca brought the rabbit here, why warn me about the basement?”
Teresa looked at him.
“Maybe she didn’t.”
“Who else had access to Benny?”
No one answered immediately.
Then Mrs. Alvarez spoke from the kitchen.
“There was a woman here yesterday.”
Vincent turned.
“What woman?”
“She didn’t come inside.”
“When?”
“Afternoon.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mrs. Alvarez gave him a hard look.
“Because you were out, she left after thirty seconds, and until five minutes ago I thought she was delivering flowers.”
Vincent stared at her.
“What did she look like?”
“Forties, maybe.”
“Hair?”
“Dark.”
“Car?”
Mrs. Alvarez frowned.
“I didn’t see.”
Teresa asked, “Did she give a name?”
Mrs. Alvarez’s face changed.
“Yes.”
Vincent felt something cold settle into place.
“What name?”
“She said Anna.”
Lily stepped out from behind Vincent.
“Aunt Anna?”
Mrs. Alvarez looked at her.
“You know her?”
Lily nodded.
“Mommy’s sister.”
Vincent looked at Teresa.
The old house seemed suddenly too quiet.
Ortiz said, “When was the last time Anna saw Lily?”
Vincent answered without looking away from the staircase.
“According to me, almost two years ago.”
Lily tugged his coat.
Vincent looked down.
She was frowning at all the adults.
“No.”
His stomach tightened.
“No what?”
Lily pointed toward Benny downstairs.
“Aunt Anna brings him.”
Vincent crouched.
“When?”
Lily looked toward the dark windows as if the answer might be outside in the snow.
“Before Christmas.”
Vincent’s pulse quickened.
“This past Christmas?”
She nodded.
“Where?”
“School.”
Teresa went completely still.
Ortiz moved closer but did not interrupt.
Vincent kept his voice gentle.
“Aunt Anna came to your preschool?”
“Yes.”
“Did Daddy know?”
Lily shook her head.
“Rebecca know?”
A pause.
Then another shake.
Vincent glanced at Ortiz.
“So Anna has been seeing her secretly.”
Ortiz said, “That is not established yet.”
Lily tugged Vincent’s sleeve again.
“Anna says secret.”
Every adult fell silent.
Vincent looked back at her.
“What secret?”
Lily’s eyes moved toward the rabbit.
“She says Mommy left something for me.”
Vincent looked at Anna’s name in his mind before he looked at anybody else.
It had been almost two years since he had heard Caroline’s sister say anything without anger in it.
“What did Mommy leave?” he asked.
Lily shook her head.
“Aunt Anna says when I’m bigger.”
“How much bigger?”
She lifted both hands above her head.
“This bigger.”
Teresa closed her eyes for half a second.
Ortiz did not smile.
“Did Anna give you Benny at school?” Vincent asked.
Lily nodded.
“And then what?”
“Teacher took him.”
“Why?”
“Rebecca said no.”
Vincent looked at Ortiz.
“Preschool records.”
“I know.”
Ortiz was already reaching for her phone.
Marco spoke quietly.
“If Anna came here yesterday, she could have brought the rabbit.”
Vincent glanced toward the kitchen.
“And the key.”
“Maybe.”
Teresa said, “Which still leaves the question of how the rabbit disappeared from the cabinet and ended up on the counter tonight.”
Mrs. Alvarez frowned.
“I moved it.”
Everybody looked at her.
Vincent stared.
“You what?”
“Three days ago.”
“To where?”
“The pantry cabinet.”
“Why?”
“Because Bruno kept sniffing the study cabinet.”
Vincent looked toward the dog.
Bruno thumped his tail once against the floor.
“You moved evidence because the dog smelled it?”
Mrs. Alvarez folded her arms.
“At the time it was a dirty stuffed rabbit, not evidence.”
Teresa covered her mouth.
Vincent pointed toward the kitchen.
“And you put it in the pantry?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell me?”
“You were on the phone.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the reason.”
Ortiz stepped in before the argument could become familial.
“Who had access to the pantry?”
Mrs. Alvarez began listing names.
Two housekeepers.
A cook.
Marco.
Vincent.
Three overnight security staff.
The gardener occasionally entered through the kitchen.
A driver used the back hall when weather was bad.
Vincent disliked the list more with every name.
Ortiz did too.
“Then we don’t assume whoever left the key also entered tonight.”
Vincent turned toward her.
“Meaning?”
“The rabbit could have been moved earlier.”
“And the bag placed later.”
“Yes.”
Teresa nodded.
“Or the rabbit, ribbon, and key were prepared yesterday and somebody inside this house unknowingly relocated them.”
Mrs. Alvarez looked offended.
“Nobody here ties red ribbons around toys by accident.”
“That part I’m comfortable ruling out.”
Ortiz’s phone rang.
She answered, walked several feet away, and listened.
Her posture changed halfway through the call.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Keep her there.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
Ortiz ended the call.
“They found Rebecca.”
“Where?”
“At the county bus terminal.”
Teresa frowned.
“She was leaving town?”
“She says no.”
“Of course she does.”
Ortiz ignored that.
“She was carrying the black document box.”
Vincent looked toward Lily.
The child was stroking Bruno’s broad head and appeared not to be listening.
“What’s inside?” he asked.
“They haven’t opened it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was locked, and they’re obtaining consent or a warrant.”
Vincent looked at the brass key.
Ortiz followed his eyes.
“That key may matter.”
Teresa said, “Then test it under proper chain of custody.”
Ortiz nodded.
She bagged the key without touching it directly, then photographed the rabbit and ribbon again.
Lily watched.
“Benny stays?”
“For now,” Ortiz said.
Lily looked at Vincent for confirmation.
He nodded.
Ortiz left with one officer.
The other stayed to finish reviewing the gate footage.
By sunrise, Lily was finally asleep with Benny tucked beneath her chin and Vincent’s overcoat spread over her like a blanket.
Vincent sat in the chair across from the bed.
He had not changed clothes.
Teresa had gone downstairs to make calls.
Marco slept upright on a hallway bench.
Bruno lay across the doorway as if someone had formally assigned him guard duty.
May you like
Vincent watched Lily breathe.
He had spent most of his adult life believing presence was something measurable.
