Chương 9
"Why?"
"Because I will."
She opened the notebook again.
"And because if Mrs. Mercer has been managing who knows what for longer than today, I don't want anyone warned before I understand what they know."
Elena nodded, though the instruction made the hallway outside the consultation room feel suddenly larger and less safe.
Detective Shaw opened the door and let her out first.
Mark was still near Clara's room, but he was no longer alone.
A hospital social worker stood beside him with a tablet tucked against her chest.
Mark's tie had been loosened.
His jacket was gone.
Without it, he looked less like the man who owned the house Elena worked in and more like someone who had been told his life might contain several versions of the truth.
He looked up when Elena approached.
"What did she ask?"
Shaw stepped out behind her.
"Mr. Mercer."
Mark stopped.
"Right."
The social worker gave Elena a small professional smile.
"Clara is resting."
"Can I see her?"
"Not yet."
Elena looked through the narrow window in the treatment-room door.
She could see only the corner of a bed and the edge of the white blanket.
Mark rubbed the back of his neck.
"They're keeping her overnight."
"Good."
He glanced toward Shaw.
"Is Victoria still at the house?"
Shaw did not answer immediately.
"She's been transported downtown for an interview."
Mark's face tightened.
"Arrested?"
"Not at this moment."
"What does that mean?"
"It means the investigation is active."
He gave a short breath.
"Everything today means something except what it sounds like."
Shaw let that pass.
"Mr. Mercer, I need to clarify something about the testing records you showed the responding officer from your phone."
Mark looked at Elena, then back at Shaw.
"Okay."
"You said there may be an earlier test request made under your name."
"Yes."
"Do not contact the laboratory yourself until we preserve what exists."
Mark frowned.
"I need to know whether Clara is mine."
The social worker's eyes moved toward him.
Shaw's voice remained measured.
"I understand."
"No, I don't think you do."
"Then tell me."
Mark looked toward Clara's door.
For several seconds he said nothing.
When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.
"I spent two years learning how to get her to eat peas."
Elena looked down.
Mark continued before anyone could interrupt.
"I know she throws her left sock out of the crib when she's angry."
His mouth twitched once.
"Only the left one."
The social worker lowered her tablet.
Mark stared at the floor.
"I know she hates the blender, loves elevators, and thinks every yellow dog is named Sunny."
He swallowed.
"So when you tell me to wait to find out whether she's mine, I'm trying very hard not to hear that as a reasonable request."
Shaw's expression softened, but only slightly.
"I'm not asking you to stop being her father."
Mark looked at her.
"I'm asking you not to destroy evidence while trying to answer a question the evidence may already answer."
That reached him.
He nodded once.
"Fine."
A nurse opened Clara's door.
"Mr. Mercer?"
Mark turned immediately.
"You can come in now."
He started toward the room, then looked back at Elena.
The nurse followed his gaze.
"One person at first."
Elena said, "Go."
Mark hesitated.
"She'll want you."
"She'll want you too."
Something in his face tightened again at too.
He went inside.
The door closed behind him.
Elena stood in the hallway with nowhere obvious to put herself.
Shaw remained nearby, speaking quietly into her phone.
The social worker walked away.
A vending machine hummed against the far wall.
Elena sat in a molded plastic chair and rested the brace across her lap.
Her apron still had a small brown coffee stain near one pocket from the tray she dropped.
She stared at it.
It bothered her more than it should have.
She rubbed at the stain with her thumb until the fabric began to pill.
Her phone vibrated.
Marisol.
Elena ignored it.
It vibrated again.
Then a text appeared.
I got Mateo.
A second followed.
I am not calling Mama.
A third appeared ten seconds later.
I called Mama.
Elena closed her eyes.
She almost laughed.
The sound that came out was closer to a cough.
Detective Shaw finished her call and sat two chairs away.
"Family?"
"My sister."
"She knows?"
"That Clara fell."
"Anything else?"
"That Victoria was involved."
Shaw glanced at her.
"I told her not to tell anyone."
"Will she?"
Elena considered Marisol.
"No."
Then she sighed.
"Probably."
Shaw nodded as if this was the kind of answer she expected from families.
"Don't panic if people start calling."
Elena looked at her.
"Why would they?"
"Police activity at a house that size is visible."
Elena thought of the landscaping truck.
The delivery drivers.
The security gate.
The neighbors whose houses were far enough apart to pretend privacy existed.
"Someone will post something."
"Possibly."
Elena's stomach tightened.
"I don't want my name online."
"Then don't speak publicly."
"That doesn't keep other people from doing it."
"No."
Shaw did not soften the answer.
Elena appreciated that more than reassurance.
"What happens to my job?"
Shaw looked at her.
"I can't answer that."
"I live in the guest apartment behind the house."
That was new information to the detective.
"On the property?"
"Yes."
"Do you have somewhere else to stay tonight?"
"My sister."
"Stay there."
Elena frowned.
"Why?"
"Because the house is being treated as a scene until we're finished documenting it."
"Can I get clothes?"
"Not yet."
Elena looked down at her uniform.
The gray fabric had dried stiff where Clara's tears had soaked the shoulder.
"My wallet is there."
"We can arrange retrieval later."
"My car is there too."
"That can wait."
Elena rubbed her forehead.
Normal problems were returning one by one.
Car.
Clothes.
Medication.
Work.
Money.
She had not thought past the next hour.
"Am I fired?"
May you like
Shaw looked at her for a long second.
"Mrs. Mercer is probably not in a position to handle payroll right now."
