Chương 8
Human beings were intolerably capable of caring and calculating at the same time.
Daniel stood.
“I need air.”
Outside the ambulance entrance, the rain had thinned to mist.
The mountains were invisible except when distant lightning opened the horizon.
Daniel walked to the edge of the covered driveway.
Richard followed but stayed several steps behind.
Daniel did not tell him to leave.
“You know what I keep thinking?” Daniel said.
Richard waited.
“I keep thinking one of you should be easier to hate.”
Richard put his hands in his coat pockets.
“I imagine Owen has disappointed you too.”
Daniel turned.
“Don’t talk about him like you knew him.”
“I employed him for four years.”
“You knew his payroll number.”
Richard accepted that.
Daniel looked back at the rain.
“My mother thinks he died from a heart condition.”
“I know.”
“She tells people our family has bad hearts now.”
Richard’s face tightened.
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“She stopped eating bacon.”
For some reason that almost broke him.
Not the blood samples.
Not the forged manifest.
Bacon.
His mother had thrown out three packages the week after Owen’s funeral because someone had told her Owen’s death might have been cardiac.
Daniel pressed his fingers against his eyes.
Richard said nothing.
Good.
If he had offered comfort, Daniel might have hit him.
The emergency doors opened behind them.
Lila Hargrove stepped outside.
She was in her late forties, wearing jeans under a long wool coat and carrying a leather folder that looked as though it had survived several courtrooms.
“Mr. Mercer?”
Daniel turned.
“I’m Lila.”
They shook hands.
She looked at Richard.
“Mr. Whitmore.”
“Ms. Hargrove.”
“You should call counsel.”
“I have.”
“Then stop talking.”
Richard’s mouth moved slightly.
Daniel realized he was suppressing a smile.
Lila looked at Daniel.
“Emily wants you inside.”
“Can I ask what she told you?”
“You can ask. I’m not going to answer.”
“Fair.”
“She wants to tell investigators what happened.”
Daniel looked at Richard.
Richard looked at Lila.
“Tonight?”
Lila said, “Not until she’s medically cleared and I’m satisfied she understands the consequences.”
Richard nodded.
“Good.”
That surprised both of them.
Lila narrowed her eyes.
“Your approval is neither requested nor useful.”
“I’m aware.”
He walked away.
Daniel watched him disappear around the corner of the building.
Lila exhaled.
“Your father-in-law is exhausting.”
“He slapped me.”
She looked at his cheek.
“I was going to ask.”
Inside, Emily was sitting upright.
She looked steadier.
Daniel stood near the foot of the bed.
“I’m giving them everything,” she said.
He nodded.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“I know.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
She flinched slightly.
Daniel immediately regretted it.
He was also glad he had said it.
Both feelings stayed.
Emily twisted the edge of the blanket.
“There’s one more thing.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Of course there is.”
“I tried to tell you before.”
“When?”
“Three times.”
He opened his eyes.
“You did not.”
“I tried.”
“No, Emily. You thought about trying.”
She looked down.
“That’s fair.”
“Don’t agree with me like we’re in counseling.”
She almost laughed and stopped herself.
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“What’s the thing?”
“The key doesn’t only open the case.”
He touched the chain.
“What else?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
Richard had not mentioned that.
Daniel lowered his hand.
“Where?”
“A credit union in Denver.”
“What’s in it?”
“Copies.”
“Of everything?”
“Most of it.”
Daniel stared.
“Why put the originals in the case?”
“Because I needed Richard to believe he could still contain it.”
“You set him up?”
“No.”
Her answer came quickly.
“I needed him to come.”
“To the hangar?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to hear him say what happened.”
Daniel’s anger sharpened again.
“Were you recording him?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I needed to know whether he would still lie to my face.”
Daniel looked at her.
“That’s why you almost got put on a plane?”
“I didn’t plan that.”
“What did you plan?”
“I called him yesterday. I told him I had the case. I said I was going to turn it over. He asked me to meet him at the airfield because he was flying in from Seattle tonight.”
“And you went?”
“I was going to.”
“But?”
“I panicked.”
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
“I took two clonazepam. I shouldn’t have. I hadn’t taken them in months.”
“Then?”
“I started feeling wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
“Too sedated. Much too fast.”
Daniel went still.
“Do you think somebody drugged you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who had access?”
She hesitated.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“The pills came from an old prescription.”
“So?”
“I found the bottle in my father’s house three days ago.”
Daniel stared.
“You went to his house?”
“I still have access.”
“Why?”
“To get the case.”
He turned away.
Every answer opened another door.
Emily’s voice softened.
“I’m sorry.”
Daniel looked at the ceiling.
“I don’t know what that word means tonight.”
She nodded.
He hated how wounded she looked.
He hated that he still knew which expression meant she was trying not to cry.
He had spent years learning her face.
Truth did not erase fluency.
Lila stepped closer.
“The bottle will need to be tested if it still exists.”
“It’s in my purse,” Emily said.
Daniel looked at her.
“Your purse is at home.”
“No. Richard’s team brought it.”
Lila asked a nurse to locate it among Emily’s belongings.
Twenty minutes later they found the bottle.
The label showed a prescription written nearly two years earlier.
Two pills were missing.
The rest went into police custody.
The laboratory results returned at 4:46 a.m.
Emily had clonazepam and midazolam in her system.
Nothing unexpected beyond those.
No mystery poisoning.
No hidden drug.
Daniel felt relief and then immediately felt stupid for being relieved that the explanation was only his wife taking an old prescription and her father authorizing medication against her wishes.
Reality kept refusing to organize itself into the thriller he wanted.
Some things were crimes.
May you like
Some were bad judgment.
Some were old grief.
