Chương 5
I hated her instantly for being right.
Ryan opened the passenger door.
I locked it before he could climb in.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Grant.”
I lowered the window.
“Stay here for the police.”
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
“My daughter has been alone enough today.”
I pulled away.
The drive home felt longer than the one I had made after Tessa’s first call.
Every red light became personal.
Every driver in front of me seemed criminally relaxed.
At one intersection, a teenager in the next car was singing with both hands on the steering wheel.
I watched his mouth form words I couldn’t hear and had the absurd thought that somebody, somewhere, was still having a normal Friday.
The patrol car was angled across my driveway when I arrived.
Mrs. Alvarez stood inside the front doorway with Miles against her shoulder.
An officer blocked me before I reached the porch.
“I live here.”
“Grant?”
“Yes.”
He stepped aside.
Tessa came running.
She hit me around the waist hard enough to make me stagger.
I held her with both arms.
“I heard the handle,” she said into my shirt.
“You’re okay.”
“I thought Mom came back.”
“I know.”
“I opened the curtain.”
My stomach turned.
“Did you see anyone?”
“A car.”
“What kind?”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t force it.”
“It was dark.”
“That’s okay.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I mean the windows were dark.”
The officer beside us glanced over.
“Tessa, were they tinted?”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“I guess.”
“Do you remember the color?”
“Gray.”
Mrs. Alvarez spoke from the doorway.
“She told me silver earlier.”
Tessa’s face crumpled.
“I’m sorry.”
I crouched in front of her.
“You do not have to get it perfect.”
“But what if that helps find Mom?”
“That is not your job.”
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“The man had a red hat.”
The officer looked at me.
“Did you see him?”
I asked.
“Just when he ran.”
“From the door?”
She nodded.
“He looked at the kitchen window first.”
A cold pressure spread through my chest.
“Like he knew which room you were in?”
Tessa stared at me.
Mrs. Alvarez said quietly, “Grant.”
I stopped.
Too late.
Tessa had understood.
The officer guided me toward the porch.
“Sir, we need to let the child decompress.”
I wanted to tell him not to call her the child.
Her name was Tessa.
She hated tomatoes unless they were in salsa.
She slept with one foot outside the blanket.
She was missing one library book and lying badly about it.
She was not evidence.
I nodded.
Inside, Miles reached for me.
I took him from Mrs. Alvarez and pressed my face against his hair.
He smelled like baby shampoo and chicken broth.
“Your little guy ate,” she said.
“Your daughter did not.”
“I’m not hungry,” Tessa called from the couch.
Mrs. Alvarez ignored her.
“I made toast.”
“I hate toast.”
“You ate two pieces yesterday.”
“That was different toast.”
I almost laughed.
Instead something inside me buckled.
I walked to the sink and set down my keys because my hand had started shaking again.
The hidden phone buzzed in my pocket.
I took it out.
A photograph had arrived.
For one impossible second, my mind refused to understand what I was seeing.
Claire was sitting in the passenger seat of a car.
Her head was turned toward the window.
A red mark crossed one cheek.
Her eyes were open.
Beneath the photograph was a message.
“Now you understand why she should have listened.”
I handed the phone to the officer without saying anything.
He looked at the screen, then at me.
“Who sent this?”
“I don’t know.”
He read the message again.
“Was this taken today?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does she own that shirt?”
“Yes.”
The answer came too fast.
Claire had worn the blue chambray shirt that morning because one of the buttons near the cuff was missing and she had complained that she kept meaning to fix it.
The officer lifted his radio and stepped toward the living room.
Tessa was still on the couch, arms around her knees.
I moved between her and the phone instinctively.
“Dad?”
“Stay with Mrs. Alvarez.”
“Did something happen?”
“Police are checking something.”
“That means yes.”
I looked at her.
She looked back with Claire’s eyes and none of Claire’s talent for pretending.
“Tess, I need you to trust me for a little while.”
“I trusted Mom.”
The words landed quietly.
Mrs. Alvarez sat beside her and pulled the untouched toast plate closer.
“No one is asking you to eat the crust,” she said.
Tessa frowned at her.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Good.”
“What?”
“Distracting you.”
“That doesn’t work if you tell me.”
Mrs. Alvarez shrugged.
“Then I’ll need a new strategy.”
The officer returned and asked me to step outside.
His name tag read Palmer.
I had noticed it earlier and forgotten immediately.
On the porch, he lowered his voice.
“Detective Shaw is on her way.”
“Can you trace where that picture came from?”
“Not from here.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means people are working on it.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the answer I have.”
I turned toward the yard.
Across the street, Mr. Hanley was pretending to check his mailbox for the third time.
Two teenagers had slowed their bicycles at the corner.
A patrol car in a suburban neighborhood became public information faster than any official system.
“Whoever came to the back door knows where the kids are,” I said.
Palmer nodded once.
“That’s why we’re not leaving you here tonight.”
“I’m not taking them anywhere until Claire is found.”
“That may not be your call.”
My anger returned because it was easier than fear.
“They’re my children.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then don’t tell me where they sleep.”
May you like
Palmer shifted his weight.
He was younger than I was, maybe thirty, with the exhausted patience of someone accustomed to being blamed for procedures he did not invent.
