Chương 6
He lowered himself into the desk chair.
Grace’s photograph stood beside a cup of colored pencils. She was laughing in the picture, head turned away from the camera, green eyes narrowed against sunlight. Marcus had taken it at the lakefront after she accused him of not knowing how to use portrait mode.
He touched the frame.
“You had another daughter,” he whispered.
The sentence sounded wrong. Not accusation, not grief, not yet.
“You had another daughter, and you let me bury you without telling me.”
Lily stirred under the bed.
Marcus sat until dawn.
The locker at Union Station contained a prepaid phone, a flash drive, twenty-three thousand dollars in cash, a notarized letter from Grace, and a photograph of two newborn girls wearing identical hospital bracelets.
Detective Holt did not tell Marcus any of that.
He learned it from a clerk in the station’s security office who owed Leon money.
By eight in the morning, Marcus knew the locker had been opened under warrant and its contents transferred to a police evidence facility. He knew Holt had called the state’s attorney’s office and requested a financial-crimes liaison. He knew Adrian’s name had been entered into a regional alert system, though no arrest warrant existed.
He also knew three Blackwell accounts had experienced attempted access overnight.
Adrian was moving.
Marcus sat in his study with Leon and Miriam Feld, the attorney who had represented his legitimate companies for nine years while carefully avoiding questions about the rest. Miriam wore a charcoal suit and had the habit of removing her glasses before saying something expensive.
She removed them now.
“You cannot continue treating the police investigation as something you can monitor through favors.”
“Why not?”
“Because the favors are crimes.”
“Most favors are.”
“That sentence is why I charge you by the hour.”
Leon’s phone vibrated. He read the message and passed it to Marcus.
A motel had been located outside Gary, Indiana. Room seven. Paid weekly in cash by a woman matching Karen’s description. The room had been cleared before dawn. Blood was found on a towel, but there was no sign of a struggle.
Marcus handed the phone to Miriam.
She read it.
“Give this to Detective Holt.”
“No.”
“Marcus.”
“Not until my people search the area.”
“You agreed not to interfere.”
“I agreed to keep Emma safe.”
“You are not listening.”
“I am listening. I disagree.”
Miriam put her glasses back on.
“Then listen to this. If Grace’s letter or flash drive contains evidence related to your businesses, the state may open investigations that have nothing to do with Emma. If Adrian has been moving money, forging documents, or using your companies, you may be exposed even if you did not authorize specific acts.”
Marcus looked toward the closed study door. Beyond it, Lily was showing Emma how to use the television remote. They had argued for ten minutes about whether cartoons should be loud.
“What does that have to do with finding Karen?”
“Everything, if Karen believes the police will use her as a witness against you. Everything, if Adrian believes she can prove he committed crimes. Everything, if Grace separated the twins because she believed your world was unsafe.”
Marcus’s expression hardened.
“My world was safe for Grace.”
Miriam did not look away.
“Grace died in a traffic collision while being followed by one of your security vehicles.”
“The driver fell asleep.”
“That was the conclusion produced by an investigator Adrian hired.”
Leon shifted near the bookcase.
Marcus looked at him.
“You have something to say?”
Leon took his time.
“I never liked the report.”
“Why didn’t you say that?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Two days after the funeral. You told me to stop digging because Lily needed one parent who wasn’t chasing ghosts.”
Marcus remembered the conversation only as a blur of bourbon, condolences, and rage. Leon might have said anything. Marcus might have answered anything.
Miriam closed her folder.
“This cannot be solved by finding Adrian in an alley.”
Marcus’s voice went flat.
“I wasn’t planning an alley.”
“That does not reassure me.”
A knock came at the door.
Lily entered without waiting. Emma stood behind her wearing one of Lily’s blue sweaters and leggings that bunched at the ankles. Clean clothes made the hollows in her cheeks more visible.
“Emma needs to tell you something,” Lily said.
Emma shook her head.
“You said you would.”
“I said maybe.”
“That means yes when you’re already at the door.”
Marcus leaned back in his chair.
“What is it?”
Emma picked at the sweater cuff.
“Aunt Karen had a blue box.”
“What kind of box?”
“Metal. She kept papers in it. Mr. Adrian wanted it.”
“Where is it?”
Emma looked at Lily.
Lily prompted, “Tell him about the bird.”
“Aunt Karen said she gave it to the bird lady.”
Marcus waited.
“What bird lady?”
“The one who feeds the pigeons.”
“Where?”
Emma’s forehead wrinkled.
“By the water. There’s a bridge. And a big building with flags.”
Leon asked, “Chicago?”
“I don’t know.”
Miriam knelt so she was closer to Emma’s height.
“Did you go there in a car?”
Emma nodded.
“For a long time?”
“We listened to three stories.”
“What stories?”
“One about a mouse. One about space. And one Aunt Karen turned off because people were kissing.”
Lily said, “That doesn’t help.”
“It might,” Miriam said. “Do you remember anything else?”
Emma squeezed her sleeves over her hands.
“There was a sign with a horse.”
Leon and Marcus exchanged a glance.
Northwestern Indiana had several waterfront parks, but a bridge, flag building, horse sign, and pigeon feeder might narrow the location. It might also describe a dozen places.
Marcus said, “Did Karen tell you the woman’s name?”
Emma’s eyes moved toward the floor.
“She called her Mrs. Bell.”
Miriam stood.
“That goes to the police.”
Marcus said, “Leon will look first.”
Emma’s shoulders tightened.
He saw it.
May you like
Not because of Leon. Because of the way he had said it—the assumption that his decision ended discussion.
Marcus looked at Miriam.
