Chương 15
“Sergeant Ruiz asked me to contact you regarding a boundary instrument.”
My stomach tightened.
“All right.”
“I pulled the filing.”
“And?”
There was a pause.
“The notary seal on your agreement belongs to a notary whose commission expired two years ago.”
I closed my eyes.
“That’s good for me.”
“It raises questions.”
“What kind?”
“The document should not have passed initial review.”
I looked toward the street.
Ruiz stood beside my shed talking to another investigator.
“How did it?”
“That’s the problem.”
His voice lowered.
“The filing was approved manually.”
“By whom?”
Another pause.
“An employee named Rebecca Pike.”
The last name landed first.
“Pike?”
“Yes.”
“Any relation to Edward Pike?”
“I don’t know.”
Across the street, Ruiz looked up as though she could feel the shift in my posture.
Daniel continued.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Rebecca Pike did not report to work today.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Have you contacted her?”
“We tried.”
“And?”
“No answer.”
Sophie was watching me now.
Natalie too.
I turned slightly away from them.
“When was the last time anyone saw her?”
“This morning.”
“Where?”
“At the county building.”
“What was she doing?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Removing archived property files.”
My first instinct was to go after Rebecca Pike.
My second was better.
“Daniel, do not touch anything else related to my parcel.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Preserve the access logs for the filing, the archive checkout, and any internal messages tied to Rebecca.”
There was a pause.
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I’ve watched people ruin investigations by trying to help.”
That answer was enough for him.
“I’ll notify my supervisor and county counsel.”
“Good.”
“And Claire?”
“Yes?”
“If Sergeant Ruiz is there, tell her I’ll cooperate.”
I ended the call.
Sophie was still watching me.
Natalie stood beside her with both arms wrapped around herself.
“Who’s Rebecca Pike?”
Natalie asked.
“Possibly Edward Pike’s relative.”
Her face tightened.
“Possibly?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Sophie nodded as if approving the phrasing.
I hated that she had learned the lesson that quickly.
I crossed the street and told Ruiz what Daniel had said.
She did not react dramatically.
She wrote the name down, confirmed the office number, and called someone.
That was reassuring.
Real investigations were mostly people writing things down before anybody knew what mattered.
By nine that night, Sophie and I were in Mr. Palmer’s guest room with the sailboat sheets.
Natalie had taken the room across the hall.
Mr. Palmer had made grilled cheese sandwiches because the barbecue food had become evidence-adjacent in his mind, which was not a legal category but apparently was a culinary one.
Sophie sat cross-legged on the bed with my old team photograph in her hands.
“You were really Special Ops?”
“Special operations.”
“That sounds like you’re correcting my grammar.”
“I’m correcting the meaning.”
“Still annoying.”
“Fair.”
She studied the photograph again.
“Did you fight people?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did you kill people?”
There are questions you prepare for as a parent.
That was not one of mine.
I looked at her.
She was not asking for a war story.
She was asking whether the woman who had controlled Travis’s arm without hurting him had once done worse.
“Yes.”
Her eyes stayed on the photograph.
“Were they bad?”
“Some were.”
“Some?”
“Sometimes you don’t get clean answers.”
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she handed me the photograph.
“I think I liked paperwork better.”
I smiled sadly.
“Me too.”
She leaned against the headboard.
“Are you going back?”
“To the Army?”
She nodded.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you here.”
That hurt in a better way.
I put the photograph on the nightstand.
“I’m here.”
She looked at me.
“Even when you do secret stuff?”
“I’m going to do less of that.”
“You can still have private things.”
The distinction stopped me.
“You know that?”
“Yeah.”
She pulled the sailboat blanket over her legs.
“Private is when you say you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Secret is when you make me think something else is true.”
I nodded.
“That’s fair.”
“Also your sheets at home are better.”
“I’ll inform management.”
She finally smiled.
Across the hall, something creaked.
A few minutes later, Natalie knocked softly.
Sophie said, “Come in.”
Natalie stepped inside wearing one of Mr. Palmer’s oversized college sweatshirts.
It made her look younger.
Almost like the sister who used to steal my sweaters and return them stretched at the cuffs.
“Police called.”
My body tightened automatically.
“Who?”
“Officer Patel.”
She swallowed.
“Travis was released with conditions.”
Sophie sat straighter.
“What conditions?”
Natalie looked at me first.
“He can’t contact Claire or Sophie.”
“That’s good.”
“He also can’t come to this street tonight.”
I nodded.
“What about you?”
Natalie looked down.
“He can contact me.”
“Do you want him to?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer sounded healthier than certainty.
She sat at the edge of the desk chair.
“He called from a number I didn’t recognize.”
“Did you answer?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Natalie stared at her hands.
“He said Dad ruined everything.”
Sophie frowned.
“That’s not true.”
Natalie looked at her.
“No.”
“He grabbed me.”
“Yes.”
“And he chose to.”
“Yes.”
Natalie’s voice broke.
“I know.”
Sophie looked away.
Natalie wiped her face.
“He asked me to come home.”
“Are you going?”
I asked.
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Then she added, “Not tonight.”
That was more believable.
I nodded.
She looked at me.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth fell open.
Sophie covered a laugh with the blanket.
I added, “Sometimes.”
Natalie stared at me.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed too.
It sounded awful and relieved.
“Thanks.”
“You asked.”
“I forgot you’re like this.”
“You forgot a lot of things.”
The laughter disappeared.
“I know.”
We sat with that.
No repair.
No speech.
Just three people in a borrowed room with sailboats on the sheets.
The next morning, investigators found Rebecca Pike before breakfast.
May you like
She had not fled.
She was sitting in her car outside a twenty-four-hour pharmacy three towns away, crying so hard that an employee called for a welfare check.
