Chương 7
Noah covered his mouth.
I stared at the floor.
The agent said, “Claire, there’s something else.”
I looked up.
“The scarf wasn’t hidden alone.”
“What was with it?”
“A key card.”
“To Harker?”
“No.”
“Then where?”
Shaw drew a breath.
“A storage facility outside the city.”
Noah whispered, “Dad has a storage unit?”
I shook my head.
“Not that I know of.”
Shaw said, “The card was registered yesterday.”
“To Daniel?”
“No.”
“Erin?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
He looked at me.
“To you.”
For several seconds, I could only stare at him.
“That isn’t possible.”
Shaw’s expression stayed neutral.
“The registration lists your name, date of birth, and home address.”
“I didn’t rent anything.”
“It was opened online.”
“Then someone used my information.”
“That’s possible.”
Noah looked at me.
“Mom, do you have a storage unit?”
“No.”
“You’ve never had one?”
“No.”
Shaw said, “The card found in your basement appears to access unit 314 at Riverside Self Storage.”
I felt something cold settle beneath my ribs.
“Why put it in a box with Daniel’s shoes?”
“We’re trying to determine that.”
“Are you going there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
I stood anyway.
“You just told me a storage unit was opened in my name and a key to it was hidden in my house.”
“You’ve been sedated.”
“So has my son.”
“That is not an argument in favor of leaving the hospital.”
“It’s an argument in favor of finding out what someone attached my name to.”
Shaw rubbed one hand over his jaw.
“No one is entering that unit until we have the proper authority.”
“You have the key.”
“A key isn’t a warrant.”
Noah looked almost offended.
“Finally something in this story makes sense.”
I shot him a look.
He lifted both hands.
“What?”
The hospital door opened and Detective Pike came back in, breathing harder than before.
He looked at Shaw.
“They found residue on the shoes.”
“What kind?”
“Unknown.”
“Scarf?”
“Bagged.”
“Card?”
“Bagged.”
Pike looked at me.
“We also found a second phone.”
My stomach tightened.
“Daniel’s?”
“Not registered to him.”
“Where was it?”
“In the furnace room behind an access panel.”
Noah sat forward.
“Like a burner phone?”
Pike nodded.
“Prepaid.”
“Did you turn it on?”
“It was already on.”
Shaw’s attention sharpened.
“Anything useful?”
“One unread message.”
The room became very quiet.
Pike looked at me before continuing.
“It arrived at eight forty-three tonight.”
“What did it say?”
He hesitated.
I hated him for hesitating.
“Daniel, if they wake up before you move them, do not improvise.”
Noah’s face went blank.
My fingers went numb.
Shaw said, “Anything else?”
Pike nodded once.
“There were older messages.”
“What kind?”
“Instructions.”
“For tonight?”
“For several days.”
I took a step toward him.
“What instructions?”
“Claire.”
“No.”
The name in Pike’s mouth sounded like an attempt to slow me down.
I did not want to be slowed down.
“What was he supposed to do with us?”
Pike glanced at Noah.
Noah said, “If you ask me to leave, I’m not leaving.”
Pike looked back at me.
“One message told Daniel to make sure you and Noah were unconscious by nine.”
“And after that?”
“We don’t know.”
“You said there were instructions.”
“There is a gap.”
“What does that mean?”
“Several messages were deleted.”
Noah said, “Can’t you recover them?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe is getting old.”
Pike ignored that.
“One earlier message referenced Riverside.”
My heartbeat stumbled.
“What did it say?”
“Unit 314 is ready.”
Shaw closed his eyes briefly.
That was the first real emotion I had seen from him.
I said, “Ready for what?”
“No context.”
“Do you believe that?”
“We only have the message.”
“Do you believe it was for us?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Noah.
His eyes were fixed on his hands.
The sarcasm had left him.
I sat beside him.
He said quietly, “Dad was going to take us there.”
“I don’t know.”
“He brought the cart.”
I had forgotten about the utility cart for almost ten minutes.
Now I saw it again, rolling across our kitchen floor toward the two bodies Daniel expected to find.
Shaw said, “We need to speak with Daniel again.”
“Can he explain the storage unit?”
“If he chooses to.”
“Make him.”
Pike gave me a tired look.
“That’s not how it works.”
“No, apparently how it works is everyone politely waits while my husband drugs us and strangers photograph my child.”
Noah touched my arm.
“Mom.”
I stopped.
The anger had arrived faster than fear, and I could feel it pushing me toward saying anything that might hurt someone.
Shaw said, “Mrs. Mercer, if Daniel was acting under coercion, what we do next matters.”
I laughed once.
“Coercion.”
“Yes.”
“He put something in his son’s dinner.”
“Yes.”
“He could have called the police.”
“Maybe.”
“He could have called me.”
“Maybe.”
“He could have sent Noah to a friend’s house.”
“Maybe.”
“Stop saying maybe.”
Shaw did not react.
“People under threat make bad decisions.”
“Those were not decisions he made for himself.”
“No.”
“He made them for us.”
“Yes.”
That answer took some of the fight out of me.
I sat back down.
Noah whispered, “Can I call Aunt Rachel?”
My sister lived forty minutes away and knew nothing yet.
The thought of hearing her voice made my throat ache.
Shaw said, “That’s probably a good idea.”
Pike looked at him.
“We haven’t cleared family contacts.”
Shaw turned.
“They were attacked in their own home.”
“We don’t know who is involved.”
“So what are you suggesting, isolation?”
“I’m suggesting we verify anyone coming near them.”
Noah said, “Aunt Rachel teaches fourth grade and gets nervous ordering pizza.”
Pike looked at him.
“That doesn’t clear her.”
“Have you met fourth graders?”
I almost smiled despite myself.
Pike did too, but only for a second.
Shaw said, “We’ll verify her and arrange contact.”
I stared at both men.
“You think someone might come here.”
“We’re taking precautions.”
“That means yes.”
May you like
“It means we’re taking precautions.”
“You people really do have your own language.”
