Chương 8
The dental identification had been based partly on records later determined to have been altered.
Thomas did not explain who altered them.
Investigators exchanged looks.
Margaret noticed.
The story was not complete.
Thomas admitted taking money.
He admitted lying.
He admitted staying hidden even after the immediate threat weakened because by then revealing himself meant prosecution, financial ruin and exposing Margaret to the consequences of the insurance payment.
Then he said something Margaret had not expected.
“After the first year, I wasn’t only protecting you anymore.”
Thomas looked down.
“I was protecting myself.”
Hannah began crying silently.
Margaret did not.
Thomas continued.
“I told myself one more month. Then another. Every month made coming back worse. Eventually I understood that fear had become an excuse.”
Margaret stared at his aged face.
There he was.
Not the dead husband she had polished in memory.
Thomas.
Stubborn.
Ashamed.
Capable of love and cowardice at the same time.
“I watched Hannah get married from across the street.”
Hannah made a sound.
Margaret grabbed her hand.
“I watched Maggie leave flowers at my grave once.”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“I wanted to cross the road. I didn’t.”
Thomas swallowed.
“I don’t expect forgiveness.”
“Good,” Margaret whispered.
The recording ended with instructions for locating the original financial evidence and identifying people involved in Northstar.
Then Thomas gave a final location.
A storage facility outside Baltimore.
He said he would wait there until midnight the following day.
If Margaret wanted to see him, she could come.
If she did not, he would surrender through an attorney.
Margaret stared at the blank screen.
An investigator asked her not to contact him independently.
She laughed.
“You think?”
“We need to control how this proceeds.”
“No.”
The investigator frowned.
Margaret stood.
“You can control your investigation. You do not control whether I speak to my husband.”
“Mrs. Collins, there may be safety concerns.”
“Then make it safe.”
“We can’t promise—”
“You have his location.”
“We have a location he recorded at an unknown time.”
Margaret picked up her shoulder bag.
“I’m going.”
Hannah stood too.
“Me too.”
Margaret turned.
“No.”
Hannah’s face changed.
Margaret saw the old mistake before making it.
She corrected herself.
“Do you want to?”
Hannah looked surprised.
Then she nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then come.”
Daniel remained behind.
Before Margaret left, he approached her.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him.
“For what part?”
“Helping Owens find Thomas five years ago.”
“You didn’t know.”
“No.”
“That doesn’t make you innocent.”
“I know.”
Margaret studied him.
There was no satisfying response.
So she gave him none.
The meeting was arranged for the following afternoon under law-enforcement supervision.
Thomas was contacted through the prepaid phone.
He agreed.
The storage facility turned out to be a legitimate business with cameras, employees and rows of orange metal doors.
Thomas had rented a small office attached to a warehouse unit.
Margaret and Hannah waited in a government vehicle nearby.
At 4:17 p.m., a gray sedan arrived.
Thomas stepped out.
Margaret stopped breathing.
Hannah grabbed the door handle.
“Wait,” Margaret said.
Thomas looked older in person than on the recording.
He wore jeans, a brown jacket and glasses Margaret had never seen.
He stood beside the car while officers approached.
They searched him.
Handcuffed him.
Margaret had imagined this reunion in a hundred impossible forms since the hotel.
None included handcuffs.
Thomas looked toward the vehicle.
He could not see clearly through the tinted glass.
But he seemed to know.
Hannah began crying.
Margaret did not.
Not yet.
When they were finally permitted into the office, Thomas sat at a table with one wrist cuffed to a metal bar.
Margaret entered first.
Thomas stood instinctively.
The chain stopped him.
For several seconds they looked at each other.
“Maggie.”
Margaret crossed the room and slapped him.
The officer near the wall moved.
Thomas lifted his free hand.
“It’s okay.”
Margaret looked at the officer.
“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry.”
The officer stared at her.
“Please don’t do that again.”
“I won’t.”
Thomas touched his cheek.
Margaret almost laughed at the symmetry.
Instead she sat.
Hannah remained near the door.
Thomas saw her.
His face collapsed.
“Hannah.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
Hannah sat beside Margaret.
Thomas looked at both of them.
“I’m sorry.”
Margaret said, “That sentence is going to get very tired.”
Thomas nodded.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
He looked down.
Margaret studied his hands.
Same hands.
Older skin.
Same crooked little finger on the right hand.
She had held those hands in hospital rooms, movie theaters, funeral homes, airplanes.
She had thought she would recognize them anywhere.
Apparently anywhere did not include the grave.
“Why the hotel?” she asked.
“I knew you were coming to Washington.”
“How?”
“Your sister posted about the retirement dinner.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
Of course.
A social-media post.
Nothing mystical.
Nothing elaborate.
Thomas had watched from a distance.
“Why Daniel?”
“I needed someone Owens knew.”
“You trusted a man who helped Owens find you?”
“I trusted his guilt.”
Margaret glanced at Hannah.
“That seems to be a theme.”
Thomas accepted it.
Hannah finally spoke.
“Were you at my wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Across the street from the church.”
“With binoculars?”
“No.”
“Good. That would somehow make it worse.”
Thomas almost smiled.
Hannah did not.
His expression disappeared.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to say that like it fixes anything.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
Thomas closed his mouth.
Hannah’s voice shook.
“I hated myself for our last conversation.”
Thomas stared at her.
“I thought the last thing I ever said to you was that you were a liar.”
He swallowed.
“You were right.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“No.”
“You let me think I drove away angry and then you died.”
“I’m sorry.”
Hannah stood.
Margaret thought she would leave.
Instead Hannah walked to the window.
Thomas looked at Margaret.
She shook her head.
Do not follow her.
He couldn’t anyway.
May you like
For once the handcuff seemed appropriate.
Margaret asked the question that had been growing since the recording.
