Chương 5
“Still shared?”
“I forgot to remove my number.”
I opened the Walgreens app.
The account loaded.
Recent purchases appeared at the top.
There was one from that evening.
Cough medicine.
Children’s ibuprofen.
Tissues.
A chocolate bar Taylor always bought when she was stressed.
The transaction time was 9:31 p.m.
Dana read it over my shoulder.
“That supports her being there then.”
“Not at eight-fifteen.”
“No.”
I opened the digital receipt.
The store address made my stomach drop.
It was not the Walgreens near our house.
It was the location on West Colfax, almost twenty-five minutes away.
Dana saw my face.
“What?”
I showed her.
“She drove across town for cough medicine.”
“Maybe the local store was out.”
“Maybe.”
But Taylor hated driving on Colfax at night.
She complained about traffic there even on Sunday mornings.
There were three pharmacies closer.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was a text from Nathan Harper.
I had not spoken to him since before the divorce.
The message contained only six words.
Police are here asking about Mia.
A second message appeared before I could respond.
Then another.
She finally told me what happened.
I stared at Nathan’s message until the screen dimmed in my hand.
Dana noticed.
“What did he say?”
“Mia told him.”
“About the freezer?”
“I assume so.”
“Don’t assume.”
She held out her hand without touching my phone.
“Ask what she said, in his words, not yours.”
I typed slowly.
What exactly did Mia tell you?
Nathan’s reply came almost immediately.
She said Evelyn locked her in your garage freezer after the girls spilled polish.
Another message followed.
She said Lily got her out and Evelyn punished Lily for helping.
Then another.
She says it happened more than once to Lily.
I sat down hard on the edge of the bed.
Dana read over my shoulder.
“Do not coach him.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Tell him to let the officers handle the interview.”
I sent that.
Nathan answered with a single thumbs-up.
For some reason, that tiny yellow icon made everything feel more real than the police, the hospital, or the evidence bag.
Nathan was not dramatic.
He was the kind of man who returned borrowed tools cleaner than when he got them and complained about gas prices with the passion of a small-town radio host.
If Mia had told him this, he would be sitting somewhere in his house trying not to break furniture.
Dana walked toward the doorway.
“Your place is acceptable for an emergency placement.”
I looked up.
“Acceptable?”
“It means Lily can come here if the hospital releases her and if there isn’t new information that changes the safety assessment.”
“I’ll take acceptable.”
“You’ll also have a temporary safety plan.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t say anything.”
I stopped.
She leaned against the doorframe.
“People say anything when they’re scared, and then they get angry when anything becomes actual instructions.”
“Fine.”
“You don’t bring Lily to Taylor’s house.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t permit unsupervised contact with Taylor or Evelyn unless authorized.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t discuss the details of the investigation with Lily.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t interrogate her, record her, or ask her to repeat what she told us.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t confront Evelyn.”
That one took me longer.
Dana saw it.
“Mr. Bennett.”
“I heard you.”
“That was not the same as agreeing.”
I looked toward Lily’s drawing on the wall.
“I won’t confront Evelyn.”
“Good.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was Martinez.
He asked us to return to the hospital and said he would meet us there.
On the drive back, Dana followed in her county SUV while I drove too fast until I caught myself and slowed down.
Denver traffic had thinned.
Streetlights slid across the windshield.
At one red light, I noticed my hands were shaking.
I put them flat against the steering wheel.
I had spent months telling myself the divorce was the worst thing that could happen to our family.
That seemed almost embarrassing now.
When I reached the hospital, Martinez was waiting near the emergency entrance with another officer.
He looked more serious than before.
“Can we talk before you go in?”
My chest tightened.
“Is Lily okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“Then what?”
“We found something in the garage.”
Dana came up beside me.
Martinez glanced at her, then back at me.
“There’s a latch on the freezer.”
“I know.”
“It’s an older model.”
“Yes.”
“There is also a sliding bolt installed on the outside rear edge.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“It isn’t visible from the front.”
I tried to picture the freezer.
I had owned that thing for nine years.
It had come with the house.
I had replaced the drain plug once and cursed it every time frost formed around the hinges.
I had never seen a bolt.
“Someone installed a lock?”
“Not exactly a lock.”
He chose his words carefully.
“A short metal slide bolt, similar to what you’d use on a shed cabinet.”
“Why?”
“We’re investigating that.”
“Was it engaged?”
“When officers examined the freezer after your call, the bolt was in the open position.”
“So that proves nothing.”
“By itself, no.”
I hated that answer because it was reasonable.
Martinez continued.
“There are also scratch marks on the underside of the lid.”
My stomach turned.
“From Lily?”
“We don’t know.”
“Finger marks?”
“Scraping in the plastic liner.”
“Old?”
“Some appear older.”
Dana said, “Did you photograph them before moving anything?”
“Yes.”
Martinez looked at me.
“We also found a folded towel on the floor behind the freezer.”
“A towel?”
“Gray bath towel.”
I waited.
He said, “There are strands of hair caught in the fibers.”
The parking lot seemed suddenly too bright.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we collected it.”
“Is it Lily’s?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why was it behind the freezer?”
“We don’t know.”
I pressed my fingers against my eyes.
“Stop saying that.”
Martinez’s voice stayed level.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
May you like
“You’re right.”
That answer deflated my anger.
