Chương 11
I rubbed my forehead.
“A former officer.”
“Former friend?”
“No.”
“Enemy?”
“No.”
“That’s comforting.”
“He was my superior.”
Rachel crossed her arms.
“And you think he texted Marcus.”
“I think the letter B could be anyone.”
“But you gave the police his name.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because pretending the connection doesn’t exist would be stupid.”
Rachel stared at me.
“You’ve become very committed to facts today.”
“I’m trying.”
She walked to the porch railing.
“Marcus asked me about your medals once.”
I turned.
“When?”
“About six months ago.”
“What did he ask?”
“Where you kept them.”
Hernandez said, “What did you tell him?”
“That I didn’t know.”
Rachel frowned.
“He said he wanted to frame them for Claire.”
I laughed once.
“That is not something Marcus would do.”
“I know.”
“Did he ask anything else?”
Rachel nodded slowly.
“He wanted to know whether you had old deployment photos.”
My skin prickled.
“What did you say?”
“That you hated photos.”
“Anything else?”
“He asked if Mom had kept your Army boxes.”
I stared at her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked defensive immediately.
“Because it sounded like Marcus being Marcus.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.”
“No.”
Rachel’s voice sharpened.
“It means he was always trying to find some secret thing he could use to prove you weren’t as impressive as everyone thought.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone did not think I was impressive.”
“He did.”
That stopped me.
Rachel continued.
“He hated how people changed when they found out you served.”
“They mostly asked bad questions.”
“He didn’t care about the questions.”
“What did he care about?”
“That they stopped looking at him.”
For several seconds none of us spoke.
It sounded petty.
That made it believable.
Marcus did not need a grand motive.
Humiliation had almost made him assault me in front of forty people.
A long resentment could make a man curious.
Curiosity could make him careless.
Hernandez asked Rachel, “Did your husband have access to Claire’s mother’s house?”
Rachel’s eyes widened.
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“When was he there last?”
“Tuesday.”
“Why?”
“He fixed Mom’s garbage disposal.”
I was already pulling out my phone.
Rachel caught on.
“Claire.”
I called our mother.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
Rachel said, “She was tired earlier.”
“She went home?”
“Yes.”
“With who?”
“A neighbor drove her.”
“Which neighbor?”
“Mrs. Bellamy.”
I was walking toward the SUV before I had consciously decided to move.
Hernandez said, “Hold up.”
I stopped.
“If you’re thinking about going to your mother’s house, don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know what we have.”
“I’m not leaving her there alone.”
“I didn’t say leave her alone.”
Hernandez took out her radio.
“I’m asking for a welfare check.”
“That could take time.”
“It could.”
“I can be there in twelve minutes.”
“And if someone else is there?”
I stared at her.
She held my gaze.
“Your brother-in-law may have been looking for old material connected to you.”
She pointed toward the paper bag.
“Someone may be warning him about photographs.”
Her voice stayed calm.
“We don’t know who, and we don’t know why.”
Rachel touched my arm lightly this time.
I did not flinch.
“Listen to her.”
I hated that she was right.
I hated that Hernandez was right.
I hated waiting more than almost anything.
My phone rang.
Mom.
I answered immediately.
“Mom?”
“Why are the police at Rachel’s?”
Her voice sounded irritated.
Normal irritated.
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Are you alone?”
A pause.
“Well, that’s a dramatic question.”
“Mom.”
“Yes, I’m alone.”
“Are the doors locked?”
“Claire, what happened?”
“Lock them.”
“They are.”
“Check.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
I heard the television in the background.
Then her slippers moving across the floor.
A deadbolt clicked.
“The front is locked.”
“Back door.”
Another shuffle.
“Locked.”
“Garage?”
“Claire.”
“Please.”
She sighed.
A minute later she returned.
“Everything is locked.”
I breathed.
“Good.”
“What is going on?”
“Police are coming by.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Do not open the door until you see the officer.”
She went quiet.
Then, finally, fear entered her voice.
“Is this about Marcus?”
“Maybe.”
“What did he do?”
Rachel whispered, “Don’t tell her yet.”
I agreed.
“Nothing you need to handle tonight.”
“That is exactly what your father used to say before something awful.”
My throat tightened.
“Just stay inside.”
She sighed.
“Fine.”
I was about to hang up when she added, “Marcus was here yesterday too.”
I stopped breathing.
Rachel’s head snapped toward me.
“What?”
“He came by around lunchtime.”
I put the phone on speaker.
“Why?”
“He said Rachel had sent him.”
Rachel mouthed, “No.”
“For what?”
“To pick up your Army trunk.”
The porch seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
“What trunk?”
“The green one from the basement.”
I had not seen it in years.
Inside were uniforms, notebooks, old orders, deployment photographs, and a sealed envelope Daniel had once begged me to throw away.
“Did you give it to him?”
Mom hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
“He said you wanted it.”
Rachel grabbed the railing.
I closed my eyes.
“Mom, where is the trunk now?”
“He took it.”
Hernandez was already speaking into her radio.
I looked at the brown paper bag in her hand.
A phone.
Photographs.
A man named Cole.
And Marcus, who had spent years pretending he believed I was nothing more than a desk worker.
For the first time, I understood that his laughter had never meant he believed the story I told about myself.
It meant he had been trying to find out what I was hiding.
The realization did not make me feel clever.
It made me feel late.
Rachel was still gripping the porch railing.
“Why would he want your trunk?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s becoming a terrible answer.”
“I know.”
Hernandez finished speaking into her radio and turned back to us.
May you like
“Your mother is safe for the moment, and a unit is on the way.”
Rachel looked at me.
