Chương 10
"Yes."
"Office?"
"Kitchen desk, sometimes bedroom."
"Any storage unit?"
"I don't know."
"Safe-deposit box?"
"I don't know."
"Workplace?"
I stopped.
Sarah's dental office.
She had worked there nine years.
She trusted the office manager more than most relatives.
"Maybe."
Monroe stood.
"What's the office called?"
I told her.
She wrote it down.
Then Martinez's phone rang.
He answered, listened, and his expression changed.
"Where?"
Another pause.
"Secure it."
He ended the call.
"What?" I said.
He looked at Monroe first.
Then at me.
"They found Jason's second car."
"Where?"
"Behind a closed self-storage facility near the interstate."
My pulse jumped.
"Was he in it?"
"No."
"Sarah?"
"No."
"Then why does that matter?"
Martinez slid his phone into his pocket.
"Because there was blood in the trunk."
For a moment, I heard the words without understanding them.
"How much blood?"
Martinez's face gave me nothing.
"Enough that the scene is being processed."
"Is it Sarah's?"
"We don't know yet."
"Was there anything else in the trunk?"
"A blanket."
My throat tightened.
"What kind?"
"Gray fleece."
I looked through the narrow window again.
Emily was still drawing.
Chris had leaned over to say something to her, and she shoved his shoulder with one hand without looking up.
Ordinary movement.
Ordinary irritation.
I held onto it.
"Did Emily ever mention a blanket?"
Monroe asked.
"I don't know."
Martinez gave me a look.
"Don't ask her."
"I heard you the first three times."
"Good."
"I can still think."
"Then do that."
Under different circumstances, I might have told him to go to hell.
Instead, I sat down.
Monroe reopened the gray folder.
"We need to separate two things."
"Go ahead."
"The financial scheme and Sarah's disappearance may be connected, but we cannot assume every fact belongs to the same explanation."
"That's convenient."
"It's necessary."
"There's blood in Jason's trunk."
"Yes."
"Sarah is missing."
"Yes."
"My daughter says Sarah was afraid of him."
"Yes."
"And Jason was communicating with a man who stole financial information before."
"Yes."
I leaned forward.
"What exactly am I supposed to separate?"
"The evidence from the conclusion."
I hated her calm voice because it made me feel childish.
Then I hated myself for caring.
"Fine."
Monroe tapped the photograph of Eric Voss.
"Tell me about him."
I looked at the picture again.
Eric had worked under me at North Valley Mechanical for fourteen months.
He was good with compressors and bad with rules.
He could diagnose a refrigerant restriction from twenty feet away and somehow still forget to submit mileage sheets.
People liked him until they had to depend on him.
"He was smart."
"Reliable?"
"No."
"Violent?"
"Not that I saw."
"Drug use?"
"I suspected pills."
"Why?"
"He'd disappear during jobs."
"Did you report it?"
"No."
That answer sat badly in the room.
"Why not?"
"I didn't have proof."
"Was that the only reason?"
I rubbed the side of my jaw.
"No."
Monroe waited.
"He covered shifts nobody wanted."
"So you overlooked things."
"Yes."
"And then?"
"A restaurant owner complained about fraudulent charges."
"Connected to Eric?"
"Eventually."
I remembered standing in a walk-in freezer while the owner, Mr. Patel, waved printed statements at me.
Three fuel purchases.
A sporting goods store.
Two online electronics orders.
All after Eric had been alone in the office near the register.
"I told my boss."
"What happened?"
"They checked access records."
"Was Eric charged?"
"Not by us."
Monroe's expression changed slightly.
"That isn't what I asked."
"I don't know whether police ever charged him."
"You fired him?"
"My boss did."
"Because of your report."
"Yes."
"How did Eric react?"
I almost said badly.
That would have been too simple.
"He laughed."
Monroe waited again.
"He said I was making a mistake."
"Threats?"
"Not directly."
"What did he say?"
I stared at the table.
"That people who acted righteous usually had the most to hide."
Martinez shifted against the wall.
"Anything else?"
"He said he hoped nobody ever looked too closely at me."
Monroe wrote that down.
I felt cold despite the room being warm.
"Why didn't you mention this earlier?"
"Because until twenty minutes ago, I hadn't thought about Eric in years."
"Did Sarah know about him?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Enough."
"Meaning?"
"She knew why he got fired."
Monroe's pen stopped.
"Did she ever meet him?"
"I don't think so."
The memory surfaced before I finished the sentence.
A company barbecue.
Sarah standing beside the folding table with a paper plate.
Eric wearing sunglasses even though we were under a pavilion.
He had complimented her potato salad.
She had told him she bought it at the grocery store.
I closed my eyes.
"Once."
"Where?"
I explained.
"Did they speak after that?"
"Not that I know of."
Monroe wrote again.
The door opened.
An officer stepped in and handed Martinez a note.
He read it, then looked at Monroe.
"What?"
I asked.
Neither answered.
"Don't do that."
Martinez folded the paper.
"Blood in the trunk is human."
My mouth went dry.
"Anything else?"
"Preliminary type is consistent with Sarah's medical records."
I stood so fast the chair struck the wall.
"Consistent?"
"It is not a DNA confirmation."
"You just told me it's hers."
"I told you it's consistent."
The room became too small.
I walked to the corner and put both hands against the wall.
For several seconds, I counted breaths because I had nothing else to count.
One.
Two.
Three.
By six, I was still standing.
By ten, I could hear Monroe asking whether I needed water.
"No."
I turned back.
"What happens now?"
"They expedite DNA comparison."
"How long?"
"As quickly as the lab can do it."
I nearly laughed.
I had begun to hate phrases that meant nobody could give me a clock.
"Can you search the storage facility?"
"We already are."
"All the units?"
"Not automatically."
"Why not?"
"Warrants have scope."
"Jason's car is there with Sarah's blood."
"That supports further steps."
"Steps."
Martinez's patience thinned.
"Yes, steps."
May you like
He came away from the wall.
"You want us to kick every door down because you're scared."
