Chương 6
“Who is he?”
“His name is Caleb Nunes.”
I waited.
“Do you know him?”
“No.”
“Dennis does.”
“How?”
“He appears in Dennis’s phone contacts, and they exchanged messages over the last three weeks.”
“You have Dennis’s phone?”
“No.”
“We obtained records associated with his cloud account after securing the appropriate warrant.”
That careful phrasing told me the investigation had moved far enough that details mattered.
“What did the messages say?”
“I can’t give you everything.”
“Give me what you can.”
Park paused.
“Dennis asked Nunes about transportation to Canada.”
I stopped breathing for a second.
“Transportation for whom?”
“That isn’t explicit in the messages we have.”
“The boat.”
“We are looking into whether Nunes has access to one.”
“Does he?”
“He works for a marine repair company in St. Helens.”
The cafeteria noise changed around me.
Trays clattered.
Someone argued about a receipt at the register.
A teenager in scrubs laughed too loudly with two coworkers.
“Dennis was going to move Sophie to Canada.”
“We have not established that.”
“He told her a man was coming on a boat.”
“I know.”
“You found messages about transportation to Canada.”
“Yes.”
“What else could it mean?”
“Several things.”
Her refusal to jump to the conclusion irritated me precisely because it protected the case from my panic.
“Where is Nunes?”
“We’ve spoken with him.”
“And?”
“He says Dennis asked hypothetical questions.”
“Does he admit coming to the house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He says Dennis owed him money.”
“How much?”
“Six thousand dollars.”
“For what?”
“He won’t say.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Is he under arrest?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because refusing to satisfy your curiosity is not a crime.”
Rosa raised one eyebrow.
“I’m not asking because I’m curious.”
“I know.”
Park’s voice softened slightly.
“But right now, I need you to stay away from Nunes, stay away from Dennis, and not contact Marissa independently.”
“Why would I contact Nunes?”
“Because you spent thirty-eight years in child welfare and you have already tried to run three steps ahead of everyone since this morning.”
I leaned back in the cafeteria chair.
“That sounds judgmental.”
“It’s meant to.”
Rosa smiled into her soup.
Park continued.
“There is another issue.”
I braced myself.
“Dennis and Trisha changed their return flight.”
“To when?”
“They were booked to come back Sunday.”
That was four days away.
“They rebooked after your phone call.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Good.”
“Maybe.”
“What does that mean?”
“The return itinerary connects through Seattle.”
I understood.
“They could disappear.”
“We’ve notified the relevant agencies.”
“Can police stop them?”
“Not simply because we want to talk to them.”
“Even with Sophie?”
“There are legal steps happening.”
I stared at my uneaten sandwich.
No amount of retirement could erase the way institutional verbs became shields.
Steps were happening.
Records were being reviewed.
Agencies were being notified.
Meanwhile, my son was thousands of miles away adjusting travel plans.
“What can I do?”
“Be with Sophie.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s not a small thing.”
After the call, Rosa gathered our trays.
“You heard her,” she said.
“I’m capable of being with Sophie and being furious at the same time.”
“I believe you are capable of many irritating things at once.”
We returned upstairs.
A nurse was checking Sophie’s blood pressure.
Sophie was awake and staring suspiciously at a cup of apple juice.
“They put ice in it,” she told me.
“Criminal.”
“I don’t like ice.”
“I can file a complaint.”
The nurse snorted.
Sophie gave me the smallest real smile I had seen yet.
It changed her whole face.
Then she asked, “When can I see Mommy?”
The nurse busied herself with the monitor.
I pulled the chair closer.
“Aaron is working on that.”
“Is she still sleeping?”
“I think she’s awake.”
Sophie looked at me sharply.
“You talked to her?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Aaron told me.”
She relaxed a little.
“Daddy said she would sleep for a long time.”
My hands went cold.
“What did he mean?”
Sophie looked toward the nurse.
“I don’t know.”
I stopped myself before another question escaped.
She sipped the apple juice and made a face at the ice.
A few minutes later, Bell returned with a woman in a navy cardigan who introduced herself as a forensic interviewer.
Sophie’s shoulders rose immediately.
Bell explained that the woman wanted to talk with her in a special room, and that I could wait nearby but could not sit in.
Sophie reached for my hand.
“Why?”
“So nobody can say I told you what to say.”
She looked confused.
I crouched beside the bed.
“That means they want your words to belong only to you.”
“Can Bunny come?”
The interviewer looked at Bell.
Bell nodded.
“Bunny can come.”
Sophie slid off the bed wearing hospital socks and carrying the rabbit by its middle.
At the doorway she turned.
“You promise you won’t leave?”
“I’ll be right here.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Right here?”
I pointed at the plastic chair.
“This exact terrible chair.”
She considered the chair.
“It is ugly.”
“Very.”
That satisfied her.
For the next forty-six minutes, I sat in it.
I counted ceiling tiles.
I read the same handwashing poster twelve times.
I watched a maintenance worker replace the plastic liner in a trash can and wondered how many frightened families had stared at him because they needed something harmless to watch.
Bell came and went without telling me anything.
When Sophie finally returned, she looked exhausted.
The interviewer carried the rabbit because Sophie’s arms hung at her sides.
She climbed onto the bed and immediately asked for water.
Nobody asked me to question her.
Nobody needed to.
Ten minutes later, Detective Park called Bell.
He stepped into the hallway.
When he returned, his crooked tie looked even worse.
He asked the nurse to remain.
Then he closed the door.
“Sophie told the interviewer something that law enforcement is checking against the physical evidence.”
I stood.
May you like
Bell glanced at Sophie.
She was tracing one finger along the rabbit’s black stitches.
