Chương 10
“He asked about Frank.”
“And Daniel?”
“He was in the cart.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Michael saw him.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing at first.”
“Then?”
“He asked how old he was.”
The refrigerator motor clicked off.
The kitchen became so quiet Claire could hear Mara rubbing the rabbit’s worn fabric between her fingers.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth.”
“And what did he do?”
“He looked at Daniel for a long time.”
Evelyn’s voice broke.
“Then he said he was happy for me.”
Claire sat down.
“Did he understand?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s becoming a popular answer.”
“He didn’t ask.”
“Maybe he was afraid to.”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe he knew.”
“I said I don’t know.”
This time Evelyn sounded angry, and Claire was almost grateful for it.
Anger was easier to trust than helplessness.
“Call Daniel,” Evelyn said.
“I am.”
“Please don’t let him go looking for Michael tonight.”
“Do you know where Michael is?”
“No.”
“Then that seems difficult.”
“I mean online.”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“Right.”
The obviousness of it embarrassed her.
Mara was eleven and had already searched a dead grandfather’s photograph archive because the adults had failed to protect her from their own behavior.
Daniel, furious and half convinced his life had been manufactured, had a smartphone in his hand.
“Good night, Evelyn.”
“Claire.”
“What now?”
“Tell him I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Evelyn went quiet.
“You tell him.”
Claire ended the call.
Mara climbed into the chair opposite her.
“Am I in trouble for using the laptop?”
“Tomorrow, probably.”
“That’s fair.”
Claire looked at her.
“You don’t have to agree that fast.”
“I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
“Can we be tired tomorrow instead?”
Claire reached across the table and smoothed Mara’s hair away from her forehead.
“I wish.”
The phone rang before she could call Daniel.
It was Peter.
She answered.
“Put Daniel on.”
“That might be a problem.”
Claire stood.
“What happened?”
“He left.”
“You had his keys.”
“He has feet.”
“Peter.”
“I went inside for maybe four minutes.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he take the letter?”
“It’s not a letter exactly.”
“What is it?”
“A copy of Dad’s instructions to Whitcomb.”
“Peter, where is Daniel?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
Mara’s eyes widened.
Claire turned away.
“Did he call a ride?”
“I checked the app we use.”
“You share an account?”
“No, but he used mine earlier because his card expired and apparently financial administration is another Mercer family strength.”
Under any other circumstances Claire might have smiled.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Did Denise leave?”
“She’s still here.”
“Ask her.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“She told me to stop treating Daniel like a missing teenager.”
“Put her on.”
“Claire.”
“Put her on.”
There was muffled movement, then Denise’s voice.
“I’m not doing this with you.”
“Did Daniel tell you where he was going?”
“No.”
“Did he ask about Michael Reyes?”
Silence.
Claire gripped the counter.
“Denise.”
“I heard Mom say the name.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know, fifteen?”
“In what context?”
“She and Dad were fighting.”
Claire stared at the photograph filename on the laptop.
“What did she say?”
“I wasn’t taking minutes.”
“Try.”
Denise exhaled hard.
“She said, ‘You promised you’d leave Michael alone.’”
Claire felt something cold move through her.
“What did Frank say?”
“I couldn’t hear him.”
“And you never asked?”
“People in this family used to understand closed doors.”
“Apparently they also understood secret paternity tests.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Act like you’re outside this.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
“I am not the person who lied about Daniel’s father.”
“No, you’re the person Dad thought might have lied about Mara’s.”
Claire said nothing.
The cruelty was precise because Denise had chosen something true enough to hurt.
Denise continued, quieter.
“We all look disgusting tonight.”
“That doesn’t make us equally responsible.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“Then help me find your brother.”
Another pause.
“He asked me one thing before he walked out.”
“What?”
“Whether Richard still lives in Fairview.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Does he?”
“Yes.”
“How far from Peter?”
“On foot?”
“Yes.”
“Twenty minutes.”
Claire was already reaching for her car keys.
“Mara, shoes.”
Mara slid from the chair without argument.
Peter came back onto the line.
“I’m going after him.”
“So am I.”
“You have Mara.”
“I noticed.”
“Bring her here.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
She shoved her feet into sneakers without untying them.
“Your house currently contains Denise, an unsecured family archive, and a cake.”
“The cake is not a threat.”
“It has shown remarkable survival instincts.”
Peter gave a breath that might have been a laugh.
“I’ll drive toward Richard’s.”
“Don’t confront Daniel if you find him.”
“He’s my brother.”
“That wasn’t what I said.”
Peter went quiet.
“Yeah.”
Claire ended the call.
Mara appeared wearing sneakers, pajama pants, and Daniel’s old college sweatshirt.
“Get your coat.”
“I’m already hot.”
“Get it anyway.”
“This family has too many rules.”
“Apparently not enough.”
Mara fetched it.
Claire locked the laptop in the hall cabinet, then immediately felt ridiculous because Mara knew where the spare key was.
She took the laptop with them instead.
Outside, the neighborhood had settled into the ordinary Saturday-night quiet of televisions behind curtains and garage lights left on by accident.
Someone two houses down was dragging a trash bin toward the curb a day early.
Claire buckled Mara into the passenger seat because tonight she wanted her close.
“Are we finding Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Is he mad?”
“Yes.”
“At you?”
“Probably.”
“At Grandma?”
“Definitely.”
“At Grandpa?”
Claire started the engine.
“I don’t know.”
Mara pulled the sweatshirt sleeves over her hands.
“Can you be mad at someone who died?”
“Very efficiently.”
They drove toward Fairview.
Claire called Daniel.
It rang until voicemail.
She called again.
This time he rejected it.
“That was Dad?”
“Yes.”
“He did the red button?”
“Yes.”
“He’s really mad.”
Claire tried once more.
Daniel rejected it again.
Then a message appeared.
I’m fine.
May you like
Claire dictated while stopped at a red light.
“Tell me where you are.”
