Chương 15
My heart sank.
Grandma straightened.
“So what do you suggest?”
“A location he has no reason to know.”
Mark spoke from the doorway.
“My house.”
Everyone turned.
He looked uncomfortable under the sudden attention.
“Trent doesn’t know me.”
Diane stared at him.
“Mark.”
“What?”
“You’re not approved.”
“Neither was her mother an hour ago.”
Grandma pointed toward Priya.
“Apparently she carries approval in a tote bag.”
Priya said, “It is somewhat more complicated than that.”
Mark stepped into the room.
“I live forty minutes away.”
His voice was steady.
“Different county line.”
Marisol spoke through the phone.
“Mark, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You are Noah’s father?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a guest room?”
“Yes.”
“Any criminal history?”
“No.”
“Firearms?”
Mark hesitated.
“One hunting rifle.”
The room tensed.
“Locked?”
“Yes.”
“Separate ammunition?”
“Yes.”
Grandma nodded reluctantly.
“Better than most men I know.”
Priya was already typing.
Mark looked at Hannah.
“You wouldn’t be alone.”
Noah’s head lifted.
“You mean I could go too?”
“If they let you.”
Hannah looked between them.
Mark added, “Claire too, if that’s allowed.”
I stared at him.
He shrugged.
“I have a basement couch.”
“It’s terrible,” Noah said.
“It is not terrible.”
“It folds in the middle.”
“It’s a sleeper sofa.”
“It’s a taco.”
Hannah let out a breath that almost became a laugh.
Then she looked at me.
“Would you come?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
Mark nodded.
“Then use my house.”
Diane’s face tightened.
For one second, jealousy crossed it plainly.
Her ex-husband had offered the solution she could not.
Noah saw it.
So did I.
Diane looked at him.
“You’re okay with this?”
Mark’s answer came slowly.
“No.”
Everyone went quiet.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I am not okay with any of this.”
Then he looked at Hannah.
“But that’s not the same thing as saying no.”
Diane lowered her eyes.
Priya and Marisol began working through whether Mark’s home could be assessed quickly enough.
The officers remained while the Hendersons reviewed their camera footage.
Nobody spoke above a murmur.
Grandma reheated coffee in the microwave despite having once described that practice as evidence of moral decline.
I noticed but did not mention it.
Ten minutes later, the younger officer returned with a tablet.
Sergeant Ellis watched the clip first.
Her jaw tightened.
Then she looked at Hannah.
“I need you to see something, but only if you’re willing.”
Hannah’s face drained.
“What?”
“A vehicle.”
She nodded.
The officer placed the tablet on the dining table.
The video showed Grandma’s street in a wide, slightly distorted angle.
At 4:37, a silver pickup rolled into view.
It slowed.
Stopped.
The driver remained mostly hidden behind windshield glare.
Then the truck moved forward and disappeared beyond the frame.
Hannah leaned closer.
“That’s his.”
Ellis said, “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“The back bumper.”
The officers looked at the screen.
I saw nothing distinctive.
Hannah pointed.
“There.”
A faded rectangular sticker sat near the left taillight.
Most of the lettering was gone.
Hannah’s finger trembled.
“He used to have one that said WORK HARDER.”
Ellis replayed the clip.
“What about the dent?”
Hannah nodded.
“Same side.”
I looked at her.
“You remember that?”
“He backed into a dumpster.”
The memory came out with an almost embarrassed little smile.
Then she seemed to realize what recognizing the truck meant.
The smile vanished.
Sergeant Ellis took the tablet.
“All right.”
She looked at me.
“We’re treating the vehicle as likely his until confirmed otherwise.”
My phone buzzed.
A third message from the unknown number appeared.
You should have listened.
Then a photograph loaded beneath it.
It showed Grandma’s front porch.
The angle was low and slightly crooked.
In the upper corner of the frame, visible through the living-room window, was Hannah’s silhouette standing beside me.
Sergeant Ellis took the phone from my hand before I could zoom in on the image.
“Nobody respond.”
Her voice sharpened enough that the entire room obeyed.
The younger officer moved toward the front of the house but stayed away from the windows.
Ellis studied the photograph, then the timestamp.
“This was taken less than two minutes ago.”
Hannah made a small sound.
I put my hand out without thinking.
She took it.
That frightened me almost as much as the photograph.
Grandma whispered, “He’s outside.”
“Maybe,” Ellis said.
“No maybe,” Hannah said.
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“That’s his thing.”
Ellis looked at her.
“What thing?”
“He likes proving he can get close.”
The words came flat.
Too practiced.
I looked at Hannah, but her eyes stayed on the phone.
“He used to stand outside my bedroom door and not knock.”
My stomach turned.
“He’d just wait until I noticed him.”
Ellis nodded once.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Hannah’s face twisted.
“Don’t do the voice.”
Ellis blinked.
“What voice?”
“The witness voice.”
For one strange second, I almost laughed.
Ellis surprised us by saying, “Fair.”
Then she stood.
“Everyone move away from windows and stay toward the back of the house.”
Mark immediately put a hand on Noah’s shoulder.
Diane reached for her son too.
Their hands collided.
Both pulled back.
Noah rolled his eyes.
“Seriously?”
Under different circumstances, it might have been funny.
Instead it was so normal that it hurt.
The officers coordinated over their radios.
A patrol car moved around the block without lights.
Another unit approached from the opposite direction.
We were told to stay inside.
That was all.
Waiting turned out to be worse than action.
Grandma made everyone sandwiches because she did not know what else to do.
Nobody wanted one.
She made them anyway.
Priya completed forms at the kitchen counter while simultaneously speaking to Marisol on speakerphone about Mark’s house.
Mark gave his address, date of birth, employer, and the combination of irritated and obedient answers people give when bureaucracy becomes the only available path to safety.
Diane sat beside Noah without touching him.
Hannah leaned against me on the living-room floor.
The contact was light.
Her shoulder against my arm.
May you like
Nothing more.
I did not move.
