Chương 6
Then another.
People moved away instinctively.
One officer approached us while the second stayed near the vehicles.
Caleb reached us from behind, hands visible, moving slowly.
The first officer was a woman in her forties with a dark braid and a nameplate that read Ramirez.
“Who is Ethan Blake?”
“I am.”
“And Vanessa Blake?”
Vanessa raised one hand slightly.
Officer Ramirez looked at Nora.
“Is this Nora?”
“Yes.”
Nora held tighter to me.
Ramirez’s voice softened but did not become childish.
“Hi, Nora.”
My daughter peeked around my side.
“Hi.”
“Are you hurt anywhere right now?”
Nora shook her head.
Vanessa stepped forward.
“She’s fine.”
Ramirez held up one hand.
“I’ll speak with you in a moment.”
Vanessa’s mouth tightened.
The second officer asked her to move several yards away.
She resisted for half a second, then followed.
Ramirez looked at me.
“Tell me what happened today.”
I started with Nora’s disclosure that morning.
I did not tell the story well.
I jumped between the juice, the videos, Colin, the school, and Grace’s property until Caleb quietly interrupted.
“He has preserved video evidence.”
Ramirez looked at him.
“And you are?”
“Caleb Price.”
He handed over a business card.
“I was contacted by Mr. Blake this morning regarding his residential security system.”
“You’re private security?”
“Yes.”
“Former law enforcement?”
“No.”
She seemed to appreciate the answer.
“Do you have the original recordings?”
“I have preserved copies and can identify the system they came from.”
Ramirez turned back to me.
“What substance did you see Mrs. Blake administer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Has Nora been medically evaluated today?”
“No.”
“Then that needs to happen.”
Vanessa heard that from several yards away.
“She does not need a hospital.”
Ramirez looked at her.
“I asked you to wait.”
“This is ridiculous.”
The second officer said something quietly.
Vanessa shook her head.
Nora flinched against me.
Ramirez noticed.
“So did I.”
An ambulance was not necessary because Nora showed no immediate symptoms, but Ramirez recommended we take her to a pediatric emergency department given the allegation of repeated unknown ingestion.
I agreed before she finished the sentence.
Vanessa did not.
“She hasn’t had anything today.”
Ramirez turned toward her.
“How do you know what the concern is?”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
The tiny mistake changed the air between them.
Ramirez said, “You told me over there that you weren’t sure why your husband called police.”
“I assumed.”
“Based on what?”
“Based on the way he’s acting.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Vanessa looked at me.
The expression on her face was not rage.
It was pleading.
That frightened me more.
“Ethan, can we speak privately?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“For one minute.”
Ramirez stepped between us slightly.
“Not right now.”
Vanessa laughed once, without humor.
“Of course.”
Nora whispered, “Daddy, I want Grandma.”
“I know.”
Louise called at that exact moment.
I answered and told her where we were.
“I went to the school,” she said.
“They told me Vanessa had already signed her out.”
“I have Nora.”
A breath came through the phone.
“Is she safe?”
“Yes.”
“For sure?”
“For this minute, yes.”
“I’m coming.”
“We’re going to the hospital.”
“Which one?”
I told her.
“I’ll meet you there.”
She hung up without saying goodbye.
Officer Ramirez spoke separately to Nora only after asking me whether Nora would be comfortable answering a few simple questions with me nearby.
I crouched beside my daughter while Ramirez stayed several feet away.
“Nora, your dad told me you were worried about something in your drinks.”
Nora nodded.
“Can you tell me who puts it there?”
She looked toward Vanessa.
Vanessa was speaking with the second officer beside her SUV.
“Her.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“No.”
“How many times has it happened?”
Nora frowned.
“Lots.”
“More than two?”
“Yes.”
“More than five?”
She hesitated.
“I think.”
“Did you have any today?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Daddy didn’t go.”
I closed my eyes for one second.
Ramirez remained steady.
“What happens after you drink it?”
“My heart runs.”
She touched her chest.
“And I feel hot.”
“Anything else?”
“My fingers buzz.”
“Do you feel sleepy?”
“No.”
“Do you throw up?”
“Once.”
“When was that?”
Nora shrugged.
“The day Vanessa got mad about the carpet.”
That meant nothing to Ramirez.
It meant something to me.
Three months earlier, Nora had vomited red sports drink onto the upstairs carpet while I was in Dallas.
Vanessa had texted me a photograph of the stain with the caption Your tiny terrorist strikes again.
I had laughed.
The memory made me want to sit down on the asphalt.
Ramirez must have seen my face.
“Do you know the incident?”
“Yes.”
“What date?”
“I can find it.”
“Good.”
Vanessa raised her voice from across the lot.
“I am not standing here while he coaches her.”
Nora jerked.
Ramirez stood.
“I think we’re done for now.”
“I’m not coaching her.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
She looked at Nora.
“You did great.”
Nora nodded solemnly.
Then she whispered to me, “She’s going to be mad.”
I touched her hair.
“Not at you.”
“She always gets mad after.”
That was the sentence Officer Ramirez wrote down immediately.
The hospital waiting room smelled like disinfectant and microwave popcorn from a vending alcove.
Louise arrived before we finished registration.
She walked straight past me and knelt in front of Nora.
For a woman who normally had an opinion about everything from municipal bonds to the proper thickness of toast, Louise said almost nothing.
She put both hands around Nora’s face and kissed her forehead.
Nora climbed into her arms.
Only then did Louise look at me.
“Where is Vanessa?”
“Still talking to police.”
“Good.”
Her voice contained enough ice to preserve meat.
A nurse called Nora’s name.
The evaluation took hours.
The physician was careful about what she could and could not conclude.
May you like
Nora’s vital signs were normal.
A standard toxicology screen could identify some substances but not every drug or supplement, especially if the last exposure had been days earlier.
