Chương 6
“When?”
“Too late.”
Daniel adjusted the baby’s blanket.
“What details did you stop reporting?”
Maya looked at him for a long moment.
“That your father’s birthday made you quiet.”
Daniel’s face went still.
“That you always checked the door twice before bed.”
He said nothing.
“That you hated voicemail.”
Nothing.
“That you pretended not to like old musicals because your college roommates made fun of you.”
Daniel looked down at the baby.
“That you carried cash for tips because your father told you people who work service jobs shouldn’t have to wait three days for kindness to clear a bank.”
Daniel swallowed.
Maya’s voice weakened.
“I stopped writing those things because they stopped feeling like information.”
Daniel looked at her.
“What did they feel like?”
“Yours.”
The room stayed quiet except for the monitor and the baby’s breathing.
Daniel sat again, still holding his son.
“Did Caleb know you were in love with me?”
“Yes.”
“Before I did?”
“Probably.”
“Great.”
“He hated it.”
“Why?”
“He thought it made me stupid.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“Was he right?”
“Yes.”
That answer landed differently.
Daniel looked at Maya for a long time.
“What happened to Caleb?”
“I don’t know.”
His face hardened again.
“Maya.”
“I mean it.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Five years ago.”
“Where?”
“Outside my apartment.”
“What happened?”
“He told me he had found something.”
“What?”
“He wouldn’t say over the phone.”
“So he came to see you.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He looked scared.”
Maya shifted against the pillow.
“He was never scared.”
“That’s not possible.”
“He was reckless enough that it looked like courage.”
Daniel waited.
“He told me to stop asking questions about Northline.”
“After he was the one who asked you to help.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said somebody had accessed Vale’s office after hours.”
“Did they steal anything?”
“Not that he knew.”
“Then how did he know?”
“His desk had been searched.”
“That could have been Vale.”
“Caleb said Vale never touched his desk.”
Daniel gave her a flat look.
“That was his proof?”
“No.”
Maya’s fingers moved toward her wristband again.
“There was a photograph sitting on top of his files.”
Daniel’s grip tightened slightly around the baby.
“Of what?”
“His daughter.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“He had a daughter?”
“She was nine.”
“What was the message?”
“There wasn’t one.”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“That’s worse.”
“Yes.”
“What did Caleb do?”
“He quit.”
“And then?”
“He disappeared.”
Daniel turned back.
“Disappeared how?”
“Stopped answering.”
“Did you report him missing?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because three days later he texted me.”
“What did it say?”
Maya’s mouth tightened.
“That he was fine and I needed to forget him.”
“Did you believe it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He called me Wilson.”
Daniel frowned.
“That’s your last name.”
“He never called me Wilson.”
“What did he call you?”
“May.”
Daniel absorbed that.
“Could have been him trying to be formal.”
“Maybe.”
“Did you check?”
“I went to his apartment.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You went there after someone had threatened him with a picture of his daughter?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“No kidding.”
“The apartment was empty.”
“Empty as in he moved?”
“Empty as in stripped.”
Daniel looked down at the baby again.
“No furniture?”
“Nothing except a broken lamp in the hallway.”
“Did you call police?”
“I called the nonemergency number.”
“And?”
“They said an adult had the right to move.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“I know.”
“Did you contact his daughter’s mother?”
“I didn’t know her name.”
“His employer?”
“Vale said Caleb resigned.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
Daniel exhaled.
“Did you keep any evidence?”
“Yes.”
His head lifted.
“What?”
Maya stared at him.
“The notes Caleb gave me.”
“Where are they?”
“In a storage box at our house.”
Daniel’s face went blank.
“Our house.”
“Yes.”
“How long have they been there?”
“Since before we were married.”
“You brought them into our home.”
“I didn’t know what else to do with them.”
“Burn them.”
“I tried.”
Daniel stared at her.
Maya looked embarrassed.
“I got as far as the alley behind my apartment with a metal mixing bowl and a lighter.”
Despite himself, Daniel said, “That is the least competent criminal act I have ever heard.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“The wind kept blowing the flame out.”
A reluctant laugh escaped him.
It lasted less than a second.
Then he looked almost angry at himself for making the sound.
Maya’s eyes filled again.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Where exactly is the box?”
“In the closet under the stairs.”
“What does it look like?”
“Brown cardboard.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Blue tape across the top.”
“What’s written on it?”
“Winter clothes.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“You put evidence connected to someone following me in a box labeled winter clothes.”
“I panicked.”
“For five years?”
“I kept not knowing what to do.”
“That sentence may be the story of our marriage.”
Maya flinched.
Daniel immediately looked away.
The baby made a soft grunt against his chest.
Daniel adjusted him carefully.
“Did you ever hear from Caleb again?”
“No.”
“Not once?”
“No.”
“Did Vale contact you?”
“Once.”
“When?”
“About a month after Caleb disappeared.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked if I still had Caleb’s notes.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
“What did you say?”
“That I didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“And?”
“He said, ‘Good answer.’”
Daniel went very still.
“Then what?”
“He hung up.”
“Did that not make you think maybe you should tell me?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Maya looked at him, exhausted enough now that whatever defenses she had carried for years seemed to be slipping away.
“Because I was a coward.”
Daniel said nothing.
“I told myself I was keeping you out of something dangerous.”
Maya wiped her cheek carefully.
“Then months passed.”
Daniel watched her.
“Then we moved in together.”
She took another shallow breath.
“Then you proposed.”
Daniel looked down.
“Then every good thing made the truth more expensive.”
His face tightened.
May you like
Maya continued before she could stop.
“And every year I didn’t tell you made me less able to.”
