Chương 14
“Alex, this is Victor.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
Alex’s face went blank.
Victor continued.
“I’m calling because Claire isn’t answering, which I assume means the police still have her phone.”
His voice sounded calm.
Almost bored.
That frightened me more than shouting would have.
“I need you to tell her that this has gone way too far.”
Alex reached for the phone.
I shook my head.
The message kept playing.
“My mother didn’t put that gun in her suitcase.”
A pause.
“And neither did I.”
Another pause.
“So before Claire starts making accusations she can’t take back, she should think very carefully about who else was in that house.”
My stomach dropped.
Alex looked at me.
Victor’s voice softened.
“Tell my wife I love her.”
The voicemail ended.
Neither of us spoke.
Then I said, “Play it again.”
Alex did.
This time I listened past Victor’s tone.
Past the threat.
Past the familiar use of love as a leash.
I listened to the wording.
Who else was in that house.
Nora.
Raúl.
Helena.
Me.
And someone else.
Someone Victor believed I might have forgotten.
I looked at Alex.
“The garage.”
“What?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
I sat forward too fast and pain shot through my thigh.
“Victor had someone in the garage.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw him?”
“No.”
“I heard voices.”
“What time?”
“Maybe four.”
“Could it have been Raúl?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Raúl was watching baseball in the living room.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed.
“What did the voice sound like?”
“A man.”
“Did you hear what they said?”
“Only one thing.”
I had dismissed it because Victor sold commercial insurance and was constantly talking about numbers, renewals, signatures, and deadlines.
Now the phrase returned with perfect clarity.
“He said, ‘She still thinks the house is safe.’”
Alex stared at me.
“Who said it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Victor?”
I shook my head.
“The other man.”
Alex picked up his phone.
I knew whom he was calling before he touched the screen.
This time, I did not stop him.
Alex called Ramirez first.
She answered on the third ring.
He put the phone on speaker and said, “Claire remembered something.”
Ramirez’s voice sharpened immediately.
“Go ahead.”
I told her about the man in the garage.
About the time.
About the sentence I had overheard.
“She still thinks the house is safe.”
Ramirez was quiet for a beat.
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Did you recognize the voice?”
“No.”
“Car in the driveway?”
“I didn’t look.”
“Any reason someone would be discussing the house with Victor?”
“My husband sells commercial insurance.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I know.”
Alex glanced at me.
I kept going.
“He’s also been talking about money a lot.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Debt?”
“Maybe.”
“Gambling?”
“I never saw any.”
“Investments?”
“He said so.”
Ramirez exhaled softly.
“I’m going to pass this to the detective handling the financial evidence.”
“Is Victor out?”
I asked.
“No.”
The answer loosened something in my chest.
“For now?”
“For now.”
I hated those two words.
Ramirez added, “And Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Do not respond to that voicemail.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Keep it.”
“We will.”
After the call ended, Alex set his phone facedown.
“You look exhausted.”
“I am.”
“You should sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“Then lie down and fail at sleeping.”
I stared at him.
“That is incredibly stupid advice.”
“Still counts as rest.”
He gave me his bedroom and took the couch.
I argued for exactly thirty seconds.
Then the pain in my thigh decided the matter for me.
His bedroom looked like a military inspection had been softened by adulthood.
Bed made.
Shoes aligned.
Laundry basket half full because apparently even healing had limits.
I lay down on top of the comforter.
The baby moved.
I whispered, “Still here.”
That was the only sentence I could manage.
I woke two hours later to voices in the living room.
Alex.
A woman.
Then Nora.
I sat up too fast.
Pain reminded me where I was.
I opened the bedroom door.
Nora stood near the window with both arms folded around herself.
Officer Ramirez was beside the kitchen counter.
Alex held a paper bag from a sandwich shop.
All three looked at me.
“Why is everybody in my brother’s apartment?”
I asked.
Nora looked wrecked.
Her makeup was gone.
Her hair was tied into a knot that seemed held together by spite.
Ramirez said, “Detectives identified the man who was at your house yesterday.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“A loan broker named Calvin Pierce.”
The name meant nothing.
I looked at Alex.
He shook his head.
Ramirez continued.
“Victor had been communicating with him for several months.”
“About the house?”
“Yes.”
I gripped the doorframe.
“What did he do?”
Ramirez’s voice stayed careful.
“Investigators believe Victor was attempting to obtain financing secured against the property.”
“With my signature.”
“There appears to be a forged signature on preliminary paperwork.”
My ears rang.
“Preliminary?”
“It does not appear the loan closed.”
I sat on the edge of the nearest chair.
“Why not?”
“Title and identity verification raised issues.”
Alex muttered, “Good.”
Ramirez looked at me.
“There were also discrepancies involving income documentation.”
“What kind?”
“Documents suggesting income in your name that did not match records the lender requested.”
I stared at her.
“He forged my income?”
“We’re investigating whether those documents were fabricated.”
Nora covered her mouth.
I turned toward her.
“You knew about this?”
“No.”
She answered immediately.
“No.”
Ramirez said, “Her statement about the dining-room conversation was helpful.”
Nora looked down.
I believed her.
Not because I suddenly trusted her.
Because shame looks different from concealment.
“What was Helena’s role?”
I asked.
Ramirez hesitated.
“We don’t have enough yet to define it completely.”
“But she had the papers.”
“Yes.”
“And the gun.”
“Yes.”
“And she told Victor they couldn’t afford another delay.”
Nora whispered, “Yes.”
I looked at Ramirez.
“So she knew.”
“She knew something.”
It was not the answer I wanted.
May you like
It was probably the only honest one.
Alex opened the sandwich bag.
