Chương 11
Carmen collected the forms.
“I’ll be back.”
When she left, Adam leaned against the wall.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Same.”
We stood there for a while.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
“Megan.”
He answered.
“Hey.”
His face changed almost immediately.
“What do you mean?”
I straightened.
He held up a finger.
“Is he there now?”
My pulse jumped.
“Who?”
Adam ignored me.
“Don’t open the door.”
He turned toward me.
“It’s Walt.”
I stared at him.
“At our house?”
He nodded.
My stomach dropped.
“Why?”
Adam spoke into the phone.
“Did he say?”
He listened.
Then he looked at me again.
“He says he needs to give us something.”
“What?”
“Megan doesn’t know.”
I grabbed my phone.
“No.”
Adam covered the microphone.
“What?”
“She doesn’t open the door.”
“I told her.”
“I mean at all.”
“I know.”
“Call Bennett.”
He went back to Megan.
“Stay upstairs with Noah if you can.”
A pause.
“Okay.”
His voice softened.
“No, you’re doing fine.”
Another pause.
“Call 911 if he tries to enter.”
He ended the call.
I was already dialing Officer Bennett’s number from the card she had given me.
She answered on the third ring.
I told her Walt was at our house.
“Is he attempting entry?”
“No.”
“Threatening anyone?”
“No.”
“He says he has something for us.”
She paused.
“Did he say what?”
“No.”
“Do not have anyone open the door.”
“We won’t.”
“I’ll have an officer make contact.”
My mouth went dry.
“Is he allowed to be there?”
“Unless there is an order preventing contact, being at the residence is not automatically a crime.”
“I don’t want him near Noah.”
“Then don’t permit contact.”
Again, the careful answer.
Again, the part that was mine to do.
I ended the call.
Adam was looking at me.
“What?”
He hesitated.
“Walt texted me.”
“Since when does my father text you?”
“Since thirty seconds ago.”
He handed me the phone.
The message was short.
I found the notebook.
Gloria kept records.
I brought it.
My skin prickled.
“What notebook?”
“I don’t know.”
Another message arrived.
It was in the garage cabinet behind my compressor.
I should have given it to police.
I panicked.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
Adam said, “We should send that to Bennett.”
“Yes.”
He took screenshots.
I looked at the timestamp.
4:58 a.m.
“Why would he bring it to our house?”
“Maybe he thinks we’ll protect him.”
“Or maybe he thinks Mom will find out he gave it to police.”
“Same thing.”
I hated that he was probably right.
I called Bennett again.
She answered faster.
I read the texts word for word.
“Do not take possession of anything,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because if it may be evidence, I want chain of custody clean.”
The phrase made my father’s notebook sound like a gun.
“Can your officer get it?”
“Yes.”
“What if my father leaves?”
“Tell your sister-in-law to remain inside.”
“She will.”
“Do not call him.”
I looked at Adam.
“Okay.”
We returned to Lizzy’s room.
She was awake, watching cartoons with the volume low.
A blue dog bounced across the screen.
She looked at us.
“Where were you?”
“Talking to Carmen.”
“Am I going home?”
The word home caught in me.
Adam answered before I could.
“We don’t know yet.”
Lizzy looked disappointed.
He sat on the edge of the couch.
“But nobody is making you leave this minute.”
She pulled the blanket higher.
“Grandma says hospitals cost a lot.”
I sat beside her bed.
“That’s not your job to worry about.”
“She gets mad about bills.”
“Adults handle bills.”
“What if she gets mad?”
I had no good answer.
Then I remembered what I had told her earlier.
“You don’t have to handle Grandma.”
She nodded slowly.
Her attention returned to the cartoon.
Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed.
It was a text from Ian.
Call me.
My heart began pounding.
A second message arrived before I answered.
Why is Lizzy in the hospital?
I stared at the screen.
Adam saw the name.
“You don’t have to call him right now.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Natalie.”
“He’s her father.”
I stepped into the hallway.
My finger hovered over the call button.
Then I pressed it.
Ian answered immediately.
“What happened?”
His voice sounded rough and awake in the wrong way.
Not drunk.
Not high.
Just terrified.
“Where are you?”
“At the center.”
Carmen had said he was leaving.
Maybe he had not yet.
“What did they tell you?”
“That Mom and Dad aren’t getting Lizzy back tonight.”
He inhaled sharply.
“That she’s hurt.”
“She’s stable.”
“What does that mean?”
“She’s dehydrated.”
I leaned against the wall.
“She has bruises.”
Silence.
“Ian?”
“How many?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Where?”
“I’m not doing this over the phone.”
His breath became uneven.
“Did Dad hit her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Mom?”
“I don’t know.”
“What the hell do you know?”
The anger startled me.
Enough that my own rose to meet it.
“I know she called me from a closet locked from the outside.”
Nothing.
Then, very quietly, “What?”
I closed my eyes.
“I went over there.”
“You went to their house?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You were in treatment.”
“I’m still her father.”
“Yes.”
“You should have called me.”
“I was carrying your daughter out of a locked closet.”
The words landed hard.
I regretted them immediately.
Ian stopped breathing for a second.
Then I heard something scrape on his end.
Maybe a chair.
Maybe him sitting down.
“Was she scared?”
“Yes.”
Another long silence.
“She asked for me?”
I could not lie.
“No.”
His breathing changed again.
I looked through the room window.
Lizzy was watching the blue dog.
Adam sat nearby pretending not to watch me.
Ian said, “They wouldn’t let me talk to her much.”
“Who?”
“Mom.”
“When?”
“For weeks.”
My grip tightened on the phone.
“She said Lizzy got upset after calls.”
May you like
I said nothing.
“She said I was making treatment harder for everyone.”
