Chương 13
Then Hernandez’s radio crackled again.
This time her posture changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
I noticed.
“What?”
She held up one finger while listening.
Then she asked a question into the radio.
Rachel’s face tightened.
“What happened?”
Hernandez finished.
“The arresting unit found a storage facility key in Marcus’s property.”
Rachel blinked.
“So?”
“The key tag has a unit number.”
I was already standing.
Hernandez continued.
“The facility is less than two miles from here.”
Rachel stared at her.
“Marcus doesn’t have a storage unit.”
“Apparently he has a key to one.”
“Could be Warren’s.”
“It could.”
I said, “Can you get into it?”
“Not because we feel curious.”
Rachel threw up both hands.
“Of course.”
Hernandez stayed calm.
“Ownership matters.”
“Can’t you ask Marcus?”
“We can.”
“Then ask him.”
“That isn’t how this minute works.”
Rachel turned away and muttered something about paperwork being the final form of evil.
I would have laughed on another day.
Hernandez looked at me.
“Do you recognize the facility name?”
She showed me the tag number she had been given.
The company name meant nothing.
The unit number did.
Not because I knew the place.
Because 214 had been Cole’s radio call sign suffix during one deployment.
Two-one-four.
I had heard it hundreds of times.
Rachel saw my face.
“What?”
“Probably coincidence.”
She closed her eyes.
“I swear to God.”
Hernandez asked, “What does the number mean?”
I told her.
She did not dismiss it.
She did not treat it as proof either.
“Useful to know.”
Rachel leaned toward me.
“Do you understand how insane this sounds?”
“Yes.”
“A secret phone.”
“Yes.”
“Your stolen Army trunk.”
“Yes.”
“A storage locker with somebody’s old radio number.”
“Yes.”
“And Marcus tried to break your arm at a barbecue.”
“Yes.”
She stared at me.
“I used to think my life was boring.”
“Your rice was exciting.”
She pointed at me.
“Do not.”
For the first time, Hernandez smiled openly.
It lasted less than a second.
Then the front door opened behind us.
Lily stepped outside carrying Rachel’s suitcase.
“I’m ready.”
I turned.
“You shouldn’t be lifting that.”
“It has conditioner in it, not bricks.”
Rachel took the suitcase from her.
“Thank you.”
Lily looked at Hernandez.
“Are we allowed to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She looked at me.
“Dad is coming over.”
My stomach sank.
“What?”
“He said he’s coming to your house.”
“Why?”
“He said because everybody is acting weird.”
“That is not a reason.”
“It’s Dad.”
That was unfortunately persuasive.
Rachel whispered, “He still does that too.”
“Does what?”
“Shows up when you tell him not to worry.”
“I did not tell him not to worry.”
“You told him you were safe.”
“Same thing.”
Lily looked between us.
“You two are weird.”
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“Family trait.”
Hernandez handed Rachel a card.
“If Marcus is released tonight, there may be conditions depending on what happens with the charging decision.”
Rachel’s face tightened again.
“May be?”
“I don’t want to promise something that has not happened yet.”
“What if he comes here?”
“If he is ordered not to, call us.”
“And if he isn’t?”
Hernandez paused.
“That becomes more complicated.”
Rachel looked at the dark windows of her own house.
The fear returned.
Quiet this time.
“Can I change the locks?”
“It’s your house too?”
“Yes.”
“Then generally you can change locks, but ownership, tenancy, and access rights can get complicated if he also resides here.”
Rachel stared at her.
“So there’s no simple answer.”
“No.”
“That seems to be tonight’s theme.”
Hernandez gave her a sympathetic look.
“You don’t have to solve your whole marriage tonight.”
Rachel nodded.
“I know.”
Her voice said she did not.
We loaded her suitcase and bags into the SUV.
Hernandez left with the phone.
The patrol car disappeared around the corner.
For the first time since Marcus threw the gloves, there were no police on Hawthorne Lane.
The neighborhood seemed relieved.
I was not.
I locked Rachel’s front door while she stood beside me.
She checked it twice after I did.
Neither of us mentioned that.
On the drive home, Lily sat in the back beside Rachel.
She talked about a science project.
Not because she had forgotten.
Because children sometimes need ordinary things badly enough to manufacture them.
Her class was building bridges from craft sticks.
Her partner, Nathan, believed hot glue solved structural problems.
Rachel told her that Nathan had the soul of a contractor.
Lily asked what that meant.
“Nothing you need to know until you own a house.”
I drove.
Streetlights passed over the windshield in regular intervals.
My wrist had started aching.
I flexed my fingers against the steering wheel.
Rachel noticed from the passenger-side mirror.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
“Do you need a doctor?”
“No.”
“Are you doing the thing where you say no automatically?”
“Yes.”
She sighed.
“At least you admit it.”
My phone rang through the car speakers.
Daniel.
I answered.
“I’m on my way.”
“That is becoming a threat.”
“I’m bringing pizza.”
“That changes things.”
Lily leaned forward.
“Pepperoni?”
Daniel laughed through the speakers.
“Half.”
“What’s the other half?”
“Mushroom.”
“That is betrayal.”
“Your mother likes mushrooms.”
Rachel looked at me.
“Do you?”
“I contain multitudes.”
Daniel went quiet for a beat.
Then he said, “Rachel’s with you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
He did not ask why.
That worried me more than questions would have.
“We’ll be there in ten.”
“Drive carefully.”
“I am.”
“You say that while speeding.”
I glanced at the dashboard.
I was seven miles over.
Rachel saw.
She started laughing.
I slowed down.
“Traitor.”
“You are unbelievably easy to read.”
“Apparently everyone has discovered that today.”
The sentence slipped out before I could stop it.
Silence settled in the car.
Lily looked out the window.
Rachel stopped smiling.
I hated myself for puncturing the only normal minute we had managed.
Then Lily said, “Nathan’s bridge fell before we even put books on it.”
Rachel laughed again.
So did I.
May you like
We let her keep talking.
At home, Daniel’s car was already in the driveway.
