Chương 10
The story rearranged itself again.
Not a random drunk making a stupid joke.
Someone with a history.
Someone who had heard there might be something worth taking.
“Call Deputy Hale.”
“No.”
I looked at the empty jewelry dish.
“Call him now.”
Melissa sniffed.
“He’s going to know I lied.”
“He already knows somebody did.”
She said nothing.
“If you’re actually trying to fix this, stop deciding which truth is safe enough to tell.”
That sentence was for her.
It was also for Rose.
Maybe Daniel.
Maybe me.
Melissa whispered, “Okay.”
Then she hung up.
I called Deputy Hale immediately.
He answered with, “I was about to call you.”
“I just spoke to Melissa Grant.”
There was a pause.
“So did we.”
I frowned.
“When?”
“About thirty seconds ago.”
I almost laughed.
Apparently she had listened.
“What did she tell you?”
“I can’t discuss the details yet.”
“She told me Rose talked about the lockbox before the party.”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
The confirmation hurt in a way I had not prepared for.
Not because Rose had necessarily planned the theft.
Because she had turned my mother’s private things into entertainment.
A story for friends.
A joke about hidden cash.
A reason for someone desperate enough to go looking.
“Did Rose tell you that?”
“No.”
“Has she been released?”
“She was never in custody.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course.”
“We’re still speaking with her.”
“Does she know about Melissa?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
I was beginning to hate procedural answers.
“Is Tyler Grant the person in the video?”
“Yes.”
At least I got that.
“And he’s on probation?”
“I’m not going to discuss his record.”
“That means yes.”
Deputy Hale did not respond.
“Do you know where he is?”
Another pause.
Then his voice changed.
Not dramatic.
Just more focused.
“We’re trying to locate him.”
My heartbeat picked up.
“Why?”
“Because his phone is off and he isn’t at the address we have for him.”
I stared at the torn window.
“Do you think he has the box?”
“We don’t know.”
“What about the rings?”
“We don’t know.”
“What do you know?”
The frustration came out sharper than I intended.
Deputy Hale waited before answering.
“We know the party created access.”
“We know Mr. Grant had information about an item inside the house before he entered.”
“We know he was recorded carrying that item.”
“And we know several people gave incomplete accounts of what happened afterward.”
Several.
Not just Rose.
Not just Melissa.
“How many?”
“I’m not discussing witnesses.”
I leaned against the dresser.
“Fine.”
“Mrs. Bennett.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t contact Tyler Grant.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Don’t contact his family either.”
“Why would I?”
“Because people do.”
Something about his tone told me people did far worse than I imagined.
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
He hesitated.
“And if anyone from the party contacts you about returning property, call us before arranging anything.”
I looked toward the hallway.
“Do you expect that?”
“I expect people to become more helpful when they hear we’re looking for someone.”
He ended the call.
I remained by the dresser for a long time.
Then my phone rang again.
Linda.
Daniel and Rose’s mother.
I almost let it go to voicemail.
Instead, I answered.
“Claire.”
Her voice carried the careful gentleness she used when she had already chosen a side but wanted credit for sounding neutral.
“Linda.”
“I just heard what’s happening.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“Rose is beside herself.”
I looked at my mother’s empty jewelry dish.
“That makes two of us.”
“She made a terrible mistake.”
“Yes.”
“But she didn’t steal those things.”
“I haven’t accused her of stealing them.”
“Well, the police are questioning her like she’s some criminal.”
I closed my eyes.
“Linda, she took a key she was explicitly denied permission to use.”
“She borrowed it.”
There it was again.
The family vocabulary.
Borrowed.
Mistake.
Misunderstanding.
Words that trimmed sharp edges from actions until nobody could cut themselves on responsibility.
“She took it without asking.”
“She did ask.”
“And I said no.”
Linda exhaled.
“Claire, you know Rose.”
“Yes.”
The answer came out before I could stop it.
Maybe that was the entire problem.
Linda went quiet.
Then she said, “She’s always been impulsive.”
“She’s twenty-eight.”
“I know how old my daughter is.”
“Then stop describing her like she’s fourteen.”
Her voice hardened.
“That isn’t fair.”
I almost laughed.
The phrase seemed hereditary.
“I’m not doing this with you.”
“Doing what?”
“Debating whether a grown woman understood no.”
“Claire, nobody is saying what happened was acceptable.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
“I’m trying to keep this from destroying the family.”
I looked around the room my mother had once slept in.
The damaged window.
The empty dish.
The place where the lockbox had been.
“No.”
I spoke quietly.
“You’re trying to keep Rose from feeling what she did.”
“That is not true.”
“Then let her feel it.”
Linda did not answer.
For several seconds, all I heard was her breathing.
Then she said something I had not expected.
“What if she can’t afford what you’re asking?”
The question sounded different from Daniel’s version.
Less practical.
More frightened.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s been having money problems.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know all the details.”
My stomach tightened.
“Linda.”
“She borrowed money from me.”
“How much?”
“That isn’t your business.”
“Did she borrow it before or after asking for the lake house?”
Silence.
That was answer enough.
“How much?”
“Three thousand.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“For what?”
“She said credit cards.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
“And Daniel?”
“What about him?”
“Has she borrowed from him recently?”
“I don’t know.”
I did.
Not recently, as far as I knew.
But twice before.
A thousand once.
Fifteen hundred another time.
Both paid back eventually, though only after Daniel stopped mentioning them.
“Did she tell you why she needed the house for her birthday instead of renting somewhere?”
Linda sounded defensive again.
“She said she wanted something simple.”
Thirty people.
May you like
Champagne.
Balloons.
