Chương 8
“Yes.”
He put on gloves.
The tape came away with a dry ripping sound.
Inside was another box.
This one had a picture of a gaming console on the side.
For half a second I felt stupid.
Of course.
A present.
Something for Liam.
Something Brandon had hidden because it was for later.
Then Harris lifted the retail box.
It was empty.
Beneath it lay a manila envelope, two printed reservation confirmations, and a folded sheet of notebook paper.
My stomach tightened.
Harris did not hand anything to me.
He photographed each item where it lay.
One reservation was for a hotel in San Diego.
Three guests.
Brandon Mercer.
Lucas Mercer.
Alyssa Mercer.
The booking date was March 12.
I stared at it.
March 12 was before Brandon ever showed me the five-person reservation.
The second confirmation was for a different hotel.
Five guests.
It had been booked three days later.
Then canceled in April.
“What is this?”
I asked.
Harris said nothing yet.
The notebook paper was a list in Brandon’s handwriting.
Refund Liam.
Refund Rachel if Milwaukee extends.
Tell kids Rachel decided no.
Tyler package.
Groceries?
The question mark after groceries made my hands go cold.
Harris looked at me.
“Do you recognize the handwriting?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
It was the same slanted print Brandon used on birthday cards, tax folders, and labels in the garage.
I pointed to the first hotel confirmation.
“He booked the trip for three people before he ever invited us.”
Harris did not correct me.
The dates corrected me well enough.
The family vacation had never been a family vacation.
The five-person reservation had been camouflage.
Or perhaps guilt.
Or perhaps a backup plan in case I had actually gone.
I did not know which possibility made me angrier.
“Why put all this in a box addressed to Liam?”
Harris studied the envelope.
“Maybe he didn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
He opened the manila envelope last.
Inside were several printed emails between Brandon and someone named Megan Shaw.
The first subject line read Summer Schedule.
The messages were not romantic.
That almost made them stranger.
Megan appeared to be Lucas and Alyssa’s mother.
She wrote that she could not take the children for the first week of June because of a training program.
Brandon replied that he would take them to San Diego.
Then she asked whether Rachel and Liam were going.
Brandon wrote, Rachel may still be dealing with her mother by then.
Liam will probably stay with family.
The email was dated May 27.
My mother had been dead three days.
At that point Brandon already knew I was overwhelmed.
He also apparently knew Liam would not be going.
Another email followed.
Megan asked, Is Rachel okay with him staying behind?
Brandon answered, She said it makes more sense.
I made a sound I did not recognize.
Harris looked up.
“I never said that.”
“I understand.”
“I never even knew.”
“I understand.”
“Why would he print these?”
“I don’t know.”
I read the next page.
Megan had written, Just make sure he is actually with someone because I do not want the kids dragged into drama.
Brandon’s response was short.
Handled.
That word again.
Handled.
He had used it with me on the phone.
I had arrangements.
I handled it.
The box was not a gift.
It was a collection of things he did not want found in his office.
But he had put Liam’s name on it.
Or someone had.
“Why Liam?”
I asked again.
This time Harris answered more directly.
“If somebody found a box with his name on it, they might be less likely to connect it to Brandon.”
I stared at the empty gaming-console box.
“He used my son’s name to hide his own records.”
“That’s one possibility.”
I hated his caution.
I also understood why he needed it.
He could not build the conclusion for me just because I was desperate to live inside one.
Upstairs, something thumped.
Claire shouted, “We’re fine.”
Liam shouted, “The shark fell.”
Officer Keller called back, “Copy that.”
For one absurd second, everybody laughed.
Even me.
The laugh came out wrong, almost breathless, and disappeared immediately.
Harris placed the documents back without changing their order.
“We’re going to take the box.”
“Can you?”
“With your consent, yes.”
“You have it.”
He nodded.
“There’s one more thing.”
I looked at him.
“Of course there is.”
He checked his notebook.
“Your husband contacted Tyler again after Tyler spoke with us.”
“I know.”
“Tyler sent us the message.”
“What did Brandon say?”
Harris hesitated.
Then he showed me a screenshot.
Brandon had written, Think carefully because Rachel is emotional right now and she will make this bigger than it is.
Tyler answered, You never told me Liam was there.
Brandon replied, I said keep an eye on the house.
Tyler wrote, That is not the same thing.
Brandon’s final message was timestamped twenty-three minutes later.
Come on, man.
Don’t screw me over because she’s mad.
I handed the phone back.
There was something clarifying about seeing those words.
Brandon was not asking whether Liam was okay.
He was not apologizing.
He was not asking Tyler what had gone wrong.
He was managing witnesses.
By the time the police left, it was after seven.
Claire ordered Chinese food because nobody had eaten since breakfast.
Liam wanted orange chicken.
I could not remember whether he had ever liked orange chicken before.
He ate two helpings.
After dinner, he sat on the carpet assembling a small Lego car he had found in his backpack.
Claire washed dishes.
I stood beside her drying plates because doing something with my hands felt safer than sitting.
“You’re leaving him.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
Claire nodded once.
“I was afraid you’d say you needed time.”
“I do need time.”
She looked at me.
“But?”
“I don’t need time to decide whether Liam should live with him.”
May you like
Claire scrubbed at a spot on a bowl.
“That’s different from deciding whether you’re leaving.”
