Chương 6
Emily had gone quiet.
Too quiet.
"Hold on."
I covered the phone and walked down the hallway.
She was still on the camping mattress, eyes open.
"You okay?"
"You're talking loud."
"Sorry."
"Is that the lawyer?"
"Yeah."
"The one Mom talked to?"
"Yeah."
She nodded and pulled the blanket higher.
"Don't hang up."
"I won't."
Back in the kitchen, Daniel was still there.
"What could Jason possibly have on me?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
"I fix refrigeration equipment."
"Debt?"
"I have a mortgage."
"Gambling?"
"No."
"Drugs?"
"No."
"Affairs?"
I almost laughed.
"That would require time management skills I do not possess."
Daniel did not laugh.
"Any arrest history?"
"A bar fight when I was twenty-two."
"Conviction?"
"Charges dropped."
"Domestic calls?"
The question made my chest tighten.
"One."
"When?"
"During the divorce."
"What happened?"
"Sarah threw a lamp."
I heard Daniel shift in his chair.
"At you?"
"At the wall."
"And police came?"
"A neighbor called."
"Anyone arrested?"
"No."
"Was there a report?"
"Probably."
"Did either of you claim violence?"
"No."
"Could Jason have obtained it?"
"It's a police report."
"So possibly."
I hated how fast an old ugly night could become useful to someone else.
Sarah and I had spent hours afterward blaming each other for the humiliation of having two officers in our living room while Emily slept upstairs.
Neither of us had been proud enough to tell the truth about how scared we were.
"What else?" Daniel asked.
"I don't know."
"Think."
"I am thinking."
I paced between the refrigerator and the sink.
A magnet from the St. Louis Zoo held up one of Emily's drawings.
Three stick figures stood under a yellow sun.
The third figure was a dog she had invented because neither Sarah nor I would let her have one.
"I had access to Sarah's old joint account years ago."
"Still?"
"No."
"Did you ever transfer money from it after separation?"
"No."
"Did you ever sign her name on anything?"
"No."
"Could Jason make it look like you did?"
That stopped me.
"How?"
"I don't know yet."
"That's not comforting."
"It isn't supposed to be."
His bluntness steadied me more than reassurance would have.
"What did Sarah send you?"
"Scans of loan applications, account statements, and corporate filings."
"With my name?"
"Not on the documents I saw."
"Then why threaten me?"
"Because fear doesn't have to be legally airtight to work."
I leaned against the table.
"Did she say anything else on Thursday?"
"Yes."
Daniel's voice lowered.
"She said she had found something in Jason's office."
"What?"
"A folder with copies of your driver's license."
I stopped moving.
"My license?"
"Front and back."
"How would he get that?"
"I was going to ask you."
My mouth went dry.
Then a memory came, triggered by nothing more meaningful than the word copy.
Two summers ago, Jason and Sarah had taken Emily to a lake cabin owned by one of his friends.
Sarah had asked me to email a photograph of my license because the rental company needed information for every adult authorized to pick up a boat.
I had sent it.
"Sarah had one."
"For what?"
I explained.
Daniel made a low sound.
"So Jason could have accessed it."
"Yes."
"Anything with your Social Security number?"
"Not that I know of."
"Old tax returns?"
"Sarah had copies from when we were married."
"At the house?"
"Maybe."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Not proof.
Possibility.
Enough possibility to make me feel contaminated.
"Call Martinez," Daniel said.
"I already talked to him."
"Call him again."
"Why?"
"Because if Jason built a paper trail using your identity, you need the police to hear that possibility from you before they discover it independently."
"Wouldn't that make me look guilty?"
"Trying to hide it would look worse."
I hated that answer too.
"What about Sarah?"
"I don't know where she is."
"Do you think Jason has her?"
"I think she was afraid of him Thursday morning."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
"Do you think she's alive?"
Daniel was quiet.
"I don't know."
It was the first honest answer that frightened me more than speculation.
A sound came from the hallway.
Not a cry exactly.
More like a sharp intake of breath.
I ended the call without saying goodbye.
Emily was sitting upright on the mattress.
"What's wrong?"
She pointed toward the bedroom window.
I turned.
Nothing stood outside.
The blinds were closed.
"What did you hear?"
"A car."
Cars passed the house all the time.
This one had apparently slowed.
I moved to the window and lifted one edge of the blind with a finger.
A dark sedan rolled past the house and continued to the corner.
I couldn't see the driver.
Emily whispered, "Was it him?"
"I don't know."
"Jason has a black car too."
"He has the SUV."
"He has another one."
I turned around.
"What other one?"
She hugged her knees.
"A small one."
"What kind?"
"I don't know."
"What color?"
"Dark blue, maybe black."
"Where does he keep it?"
"I don't know."
"Have you ridden in it?"
She nodded.
"When?"
"A few times."
"Recently?"
"Last week."
The questions were coming too fast.
I heard it myself.
I sat on the bed.
"Sorry."
"It's okay."
"No, it isn't."
She looked toward the blind.
"He said Mom wasn't supposed to know."
That brought me upright again.
"About the car?"
"Yeah."
"Did she know?"
"I told her."
"When?"
"The day they yelled really bad."
"Wednesday?"
"I think."
My phone was already in my hand.
Martinez answered on the fourth ring.
"This is Carter."
"I know."
"Jason has another vehicle."
There was a pause, followed by the sound of a door closing on his end.
"What vehicle?"
"Dark sedan, maybe blue, maybe black."
"Make?"
"I don't know."
"Plate?"
"No."
"How do you know?"
"Emily."
Another pause.
"Did she volunteer that?"
"She heard a car outside and mentioned it."
"Did you question her?"
"I asked what she meant."
"Carter."
May you like
"I know."
"No, I don't think you do."
