Chương 7
"What is it?"
"Something Daniel doesn't know I kept."
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Daniel standing in the garage beside several cardboard boxes.
The photograph was dated six weeks earlier.
One box was open.
Inside were Mara's old jewelry pieces, several envelopes, and a small metal lockbox.
I turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
He said these were going to his storage unit.
I looked at Mara.
"Where is the lockbox now?"
She took a breath.
"I don't know."
Dad stood behind me.
"Then that's what we find next."
Mara looked toward the window.
"No."
She shook her head.
"First we find out what was inside it."
Her phone buzzed again.
This time she looked.
Her face went pale.
"What?"
I asked.
She handed me the screen.
The message was from Daniel.
I know what you showed them.
I read it again.
Then another message arrived.
And I know where you hid the copies.
Mara's fingers began to tremble.
Dad took one slow breath.
Nobody spoke.
Outside, a car passed the house and disappeared around the corner.
For several seconds, the only sound was the refrigerator humming behind us.
Then Mara whispered, "He's not guessing."
She looked at the box on the table.
"He's been inside this house."
Mara's words sat between us like something physical.
Dad walked to the front door and checked the lock.
Then he checked it again.
"Don't panic," he said.
Mara gave him a look.
"I'm trying."
I picked up the box and carried it into the living room.
"Where was this kept?"
"In the hall closet."
"Was the closet locked?"
"No."
"Who knew about it?"
Mara hesitated.
"Only me."
Dad looked at the photographs spread across the table.
"Then he either searched the house or knew where to look."
Mara sat down slowly.
"Or somebody told him."
Nobody said Mom's name.
We didn't have to.
Mara looked toward me.
"Your mother wouldn't do that."
I wanted to believe her.
"I don't think she would."
Dad rubbed his jaw.
"But Daniel could have gotten into her phone."
Mara's expression changed.
"Why would he?"
"Because he knew you went there."
She looked down.
"She called him."
Dad stared at her.
"Your mother called him?"
"After I left."
Mara picked up her phone.
"She told me later."
"Why?"
"She said she wanted him to come to the party."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Mom invited him knowing what he was doing?"
"No."
Mara shook her head.
"She thought she could talk to him."
Dad sat beside her.
"Linda has always believed she can talk people out of things."
"Sometimes she can," Mara said.
"Not this time."
Mara looked toward the front window.
"We need to leave."
Dad nodded.
"Where?"
"My lawyer's office."
"You have an appointment."
"Yes."
"Then we go."
Mara stood.
She took the box and carried it upstairs.
I followed her halfway before she turned.
"I need to get something."
She disappeared into the bedroom.
I stayed in the hallway.
The house looked ordinary.
There were unopened diapers stacked in the corner of the nursery.
A pair of Daniel's running shoes sat beside the stairs.
A grocery receipt had been left on a small table.
The total was twenty-seven dollars and forty-six cents.
For some reason, I stared at that number.
It belonged to an ordinary life.
That was the unsettling part.
Nothing about the house looked like the place described in Mara's notebook.
Mara came back carrying a canvas bag.
She stopped beside the nursery door.
"I don't know if I should take this."
"Take what?"
She looked inside.
"His things."
There were framed photographs on the dresser.
One showed Daniel kissing her cheek at their wedding.
Another showed them standing beside a lake.
Mara touched the frame.
"I loved him."
Dad had followed us upstairs.
He didn't interrupt.
Mara set the frame down.
"I still do, a little."
Dad nodded.
"That doesn't mean you have to stay."
She looked at him.
"I know."
Her voice cracked.
"That's what makes this so hard."
We left the house through the back door.
Mara locked it behind us.
She checked the handle once.
Then again.
Dad noticed but said nothing.
At the lawyer's office, we waited nearly twenty minutes.
A receptionist offered Mara water.
She declined.
Then she changed her mind.
"Actually, yes."
She drank half the bottle before the attorney called her name.
Dad and I stayed in the waiting room.
I sat beneath a framed photograph of a mountain range.
Dad sat beside me, staring at a brochure about estate planning.
"You think she can get out?"
I asked.
He folded the brochure shut.
"Out of what?"
"Everything."
Dad looked at me.
"Nobody gets out of something like this all at once."
He glanced toward the closed office door.
"They get out one decision at a time."
The door opened forty minutes later.
Mara stepped out with the attorney.
The attorney was a woman in her fifties with gray hair and a red notebook tucked beneath one arm.
"Are you Mara's father-in-law?"
Dad stood.
"Yes."
"I'm Ellen Price."
They shook hands.
She looked at me.
"And you?"
"Mara's brother-in-law."
Ellen gave a brief nod.
"She wants both of you to understand one thing."
We waited.
"Do not confront Daniel about the financial records."
Dad frowned.
"Why?"
"Because if he believes he is losing control, he may start moving assets."
Mara looked at the floor.
Ellen continued.
"We're going to preserve copies of everything."
"What about the camera?" I asked.
Her eyes sharpened.
"What camera?"
Mara explained.
Ellen wrote something down.
"Don't touch it."
"That's what Dad said."
"Good."
She closed the notebook.
"Do you know whether he has access to your email?"
Mara shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Then assume he might."
That sentence changed the temperature of the room.
Ellen gave Mara a list of steps to take.
New passwords.
A separate email account.
Two-factor authentication.
A review of financial access.
May you like
A request for account records.
Mara wrote everything down.
