Chương 9
“The day we had tacos.”
“That does not narrow our household calendar,” I said.
“It was Tuesday.”
Reeves asked, “Last Tuesday?”
“Yeah.”
“About what time?”
“It was dark.”
I checked my memory.
Budget meeting ended at eight fifteen.
I had picked her up at eight forty.
“She was at Gable’s from six thirty to eight forty.”
“I’ve got it,” Reeves said.
“Why was Diana photographing my house a week ago?”
“I’ll ask her when we find her.”
My phone vibrated again.
The prepaid number.
A video attachment.
Reeves heard the notification.
“Do not play it with Emma there.”
I stood and stepped into the hall.
“Sending it first.”
I forwarded the file.
“Now wait.”
I waited.
Ten seconds later, Reeves inhaled sharply.
“What?”
“Go somewhere Emma cannot hear.”
My stomach tightened.
I crossed back into the consultation room and shut the door.
“Tell me.”
“It’s security video.”
“From where?”
“The HOA records room.”
“When?”
“Timestamp says three weeks ago.”
“Who’s in it?”
“Diana.”
“And?”
“Keene.”
“That’s it?”
“No.”
“Who else?”
Reeves went quiet.
I heard voices on his end.
Then he said, “Wes Cole.”
“That’s not surprising.”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“There’s a fourth person.”
“Who?”
“I don’t recognize him.”
I pressed the phone harder to my ear.
“What happens?”
“Keene is arguing about invoices.”
“Can you hear them?”
“Some.”
“And Diana?”
“She keeps telling him he doesn’t understand the classification contract.”
“What classification contract?”
“Same system from the spreadsheet, I assume.”
“Who is the fourth man?”
“He hasn’t spoken yet.”
I heard Reeves tell someone to enhance the audio.
Then he came back.
“Robert.”
“Yeah?”
“The fourth man just said your name.”
My mouth went dry.
“What did he say?”
Reeves hesitated.
“He said, ‘Ramirez becomes a problem if the daughter gets flagged.’”
I did not move.
“What did Diana say?”
Another pause.
“She said, ‘Then we make sure he never knows why.’”
For several seconds, all I heard was the faint hum of the hospital ventilation system and Reeves breathing on the other end.
“Play it again.”
“No.”
“Reeves.”
“I heard it clearly enough.”
“I didn’t.”
“You don’t need to.”
I stared at the closed consultation-room door.
“My name.”
“Yes.”
“My daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Three weeks before today.”
“Yes.”
“And Diana was already talking about keeping me from knowing something.”
“That is what the video appears to show.”
“What does flagged mean?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who sent the video?”
“Same prepaid number.”
“You think it’s Wes?”
“I think whoever sent it has access to material we haven’t recovered yet.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
I dragged a chair away from the table and sat.
The legs squealed against the tile.
“What are you doing with the fourth man?”
“Running his face.”
“Through what?”
“Available databases.”
“You recognize his voice?”
“No.”
“Keene?”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe?”
“He’s being checked at the hospital.”
“What happened to him?”
“Dehydration, bruising on one wrist, blood sugar low enough that EMS didn’t like it.”
“Did Diana restrain him?”
“He says she zip-tied one wrist to a shelving upright before she left.”
The image of Emma against the porch pillar flashed so hard I had to stand again.
“Same pattern.”
“Possibly.”
“There’s that word.”
“I’m keeping it.”
“Did Keene say why she locked him in?”
“He confronted her with the invoices and threatened to call a special board meeting.”
“That’s motive.”
“It’s one motive.”
“Did she know he copied the records?”
“She apparently saw the flash drive.”
“Then why didn’t she take it?”
“She tried.”
“Keene hid it.”
“Where?”
Reeves actually paused like he was deciding whether I deserved the answer.
“Inside the foam grip of his cane.”
I let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
“He carries a cane?”
“For longer walks, apparently.”
“I have never seen him with one.”
“His wife says he hates using it in the neighborhood because people ask if he’s okay.”
That sounded like Martin Keene.
Pride survived things the body did not.
“Has he seen the video?”
“Not yet.”
“Show him the fourth man.”
“We will.”
“Tonight.”
“Yes.”
“Before anybody talks to Wes.”
“I said yes.”
The door opened behind me.
Dr. Patel looked in.
“You’re needed.”
My stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
He looked at the phone in my hand.
“Which apparently makes it unusual today.”
I told Reeves I had to go.
“Call me if Diana surfaces.”
“And Robert.”
“What?”
“Do not leave the hospital.”
I almost argued.
Then Dr. Patel’s expression stopped me.
“I won’t.”
I hung up.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Emma wants to know if she can take a shower.”
“That’s the emergency?”
“No.”
“That sounded like an emergency.”
“I needed you off the phone.”
I stared at him.
He folded his arms.
“You are pacing loud enough to upset patients three rooms away.”
“I wasn’t in a patient room.”
“You were still in a hospital.”
I looked down the hall toward Emma.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me.”
He lowered his voice.
“Your daughter keeps checking the door every thirty seconds.”
“She thinks Diana might come.”
“I know.”
“She tell you that?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because she’s eight, not subtle.”
That landed.
He walked beside me toward her room.
“You need to decide what version of yourself is going through that door.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try faster.”
I stopped.
“You don’t get to talk to me like one of your residents.”
He turned.
There was no fear in him.
Good doctors and good deputies shared that irritating quality.
“No,” he said.
“I get to talk to you like the father of my patient.”
I felt anger rise because anger was easier than shame.
“She was chained to a post.”
“Yes.”
“Someone had her medical information before they did it.”
His face changed slightly.
“What?”
I had already said too much.
“There’s an investigation.”
“Robert.”
“I can’t discuss it.”
“Then don’t.”
He stepped closer.
May you like
“But do not bring the investigation into her room like she needs to carry it with you.”
I looked away.
