Chương 4
She read the message.
"What's unit 318?"
"My storage unit."
"What do you keep there?"
"Tools."
He paused.
"Old paperwork."
Nora's face tightened.
"The lockbox?"
"No."
Ryan was already dialing.
Daniel answered on the second ring.
"Franklin Storage."
"This is Ryan Mercer."
A pause.
"Mr. Mercer."
"My mother does not have authorization to enter my unit."
"Understood."
"Do not let her in."
"We haven't."
Ryan heard voices somewhere behind Daniel.
One of them sounded unmistakably like Marla.
"Is she still there?"
"Yes."
"Put her on."
Daniel hesitated.
"Sir, I'd rather not hand my personal phone to another customer."
"Right."
Ryan closed his eyes.
"Sorry."
"No problem."
"Can you tell her to leave?"
"We already have."
Another voice rose in the background.
Paige.
Ryan could not make out the words.
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Your mother presented an access code."
Ryan's stomach tightened.
"What access code?"
"The four-digit gate code on your account."
Only two people knew it.
Ryan and Nora.
At least that was what he had believed.
"Did she get through the gate?"
"Yes."
"But not the unit?"
"No."
"We changed the lock last month."
Ryan looked at Nora.
She shook her head.
She had never told anyone the new combination.
"Can you disable the gate code?"
"Absolutely."
"Do that."
"Done as soon as we hang up."
"And put a note on the account."
"I already started one."
Daniel paused.
"For what it's worth, she said there were family documents in the unit."
"She was lying."
"That was my impression."
Ryan almost thanked him for the understatement.
Another shout came through the phone.
Then Daniel said, "Security is walking them out now."
"Them?"
"Your mother and another woman."
"Paige?"
"I don't know her name."
Ryan looked at Nora again.
"Dark hair, black jacket?"
"Yes."
"That's Paige."
"All right."
"Thank you."
Ryan ended the call.
For several seconds neither of them spoke.
Nora finally said, "They went from our apartment to your storage unit."
Ryan nodded.
"Looking for that envelope."
"Or whatever they think is inside it."
He stared at the dark phone screen.
The practical part of his brain, the warehouse part that liked manifests and labels and numbers that stayed where you put them, started sorting problems.
Apartment.
Storage unit.
Lockbox.
Bank accounts.
Passwords.
Keys.
His mother's access to things he had never consciously given her access to.
Nora watched him.
"Ryan."
"I need to change the apartment lock."
"Not tonight."
"She has a key."
"Ryan."
"I gave her one when we went to Cincinnati last Christmas."
"Listen to me."
He stopped.
Nora took his hand.
Her fingers were cool.
"You are not leaving this hospital."
"I'm not."
"You're thinking about it."
"I'm thinking about forty things."
"Think about one."
She moved his hand onto her stomach.
Their son kicked against his palm.
The movement was sharp and unmistakable.
Ryan's throat tightened.
"One thing," Nora repeated.
He nodded.
"Okay."
A nurse entered ten minutes later and checked the monitor.
Her name was Claire, according to the badge clipped to her navy scrub top.
She had the patient calmness of someone who had seen entire families unravel beneath fluorescent lights and did not need to comment on it.
"Contractions are spacing out," she said.
Nora let out a careful breath.
"That's good?"
"That's good."
Ryan nodded too quickly.
Claire noticed.
"We're not sending anybody home yet."
His shoulders dropped.
"Right."
"We're watching."
"Right."
Claire adjusted the IV tubing.
"Has she had anything to eat?"
Ryan looked ashamed before he could stop himself.
Claire looked at Nora instead.
"I can bring something light."
"Toast?" Nora asked.
Claire smiled.
"Hospital toast."
"Is that a threat?"
"A disclosure."
Nora almost laughed.
Ryan did too.
The sound felt wrong and necessary at the same time.
Claire left.
Nora looked at him.
"Hospital toast might actually be worse than your eggs."
"My eggs are fine."
"Your eggs bounce."
"Protein is protein."
"They squeak when you cut them."
"That happened once."
"Three times."
Ryan looked at the fetal monitor because it was easier than looking at her.
The tiny joke sat between them like something rescued from a fire.
Then Nora said, "There was more."
Ryan's stomach tightened again.
"About Paige?"
"About all of them."
He waited.
Nora pulled the blanket higher.
"Your mom kept asking questions about our finances."
"What kind of questions?"
"How much overtime you were getting."
"She knows that."
"Not exactly."
Nora looked toward the door before continuing.
"She asked what we owed on the car."
Ryan frowned.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Anything else?"
"Whether the apartment lease was in both our names."
"It is."
"I told her."
"What did she say?"
Nora hesitated.
"She said that was stupid."
Ryan's mouth tightened.
"Of course she did."
"She asked if we had life insurance."
He stopped moving.
"What?"
Nora's eyes met his.
"On you."
The room seemed colder.
"What exactly did she say?"
"She asked whether your job gave you life insurance."
"Jesus."
"I told her I didn't know."
"You do know."
"I wasn't going to tell her."
Ryan stood and walked to the window.
Outside, parking-lot lights reflected off the roofs of cars.
A family was crossing toward the emergency entrance, a man carrying a sleeping toddler against his chest while a woman hurried beside him with a blanket.
Ryan pressed two fingers against the glass.
His father used to do that when angry.
Not punch walls.
Not yell.
Two fingers against whatever surface was closest, as though measuring the distance between himself and losing control.
Ryan had hated that gesture.
Now he was doing it.
"Maybe she was just being nosy," Nora said.
He turned.
"You don't believe that."
"No."
"Neither do I."
Claire returned with toast, applesauce, crackers, and a small cup of juice.
Nora ate slowly.
Ryan watched every bite until she finally pointed a cracker at him.
"Stop."
"What?"
"Watching me chew."
"I'm not."
"You are absolutely watching me chew."
He took the cracker from her and ate it.
"There."
"Very brave."
May you like
"It was dangerous."
"It was saltine."
