Chương 9
They stood in the kitchen beside a bag of soup and did not discuss the company again.
That evening Rebecca asked Daniel to help sort condolence mail.
It was the first thing she had asked him to do since he returned.
They sat at the dining table with three boxes.
Cards from friends went in one.
School families in another.
Business correspondence in the third.
Daniel found a letter from the CEO of a competitor he had spent twelve years insulting.
He put it in the business box unopened.
Rebecca noticed.
“You should read it.”
“Why?”
“He wrote it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s sincere.”
Rebecca looked at him.
“Do you know how exhausting it is to be suspicious of everything?”
“Yes.”
“No. You enjoy it.”
Daniel opened the letter.
It was four sentences.
The competitor wrote that his own son had died twenty-one years earlier and that there was no useful sentence he could offer except to eat when people brought food and let other people remember the child out loud.
Daniel read it twice.
Rebecca asked, “What does it say?”
He handed it to her.
She read it.
Then she put it in the family box.
“Wrong category,” Daniel said.
Rebecca almost smiled.
“Apparently.”
A week after his return, Vanessa was arrested.
The news alert reached Daniel while he was sitting in Ava’s bedroom with a trash bag he had not been able to use.
Rebecca had finally decided they needed to remove spoiled snacks, dead flowers, and other things that were only becoming unpleasant.
Everything else could stay.
Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He looked.
Vanessa Cole Taken Into Custody in Mercer Communications Case.
He set the phone facedown.
Rebecca was kneeling beside Ava’s desk, sorting pens.
“Is it her?”
“Yes.”
She placed a dried-out marker in the trash.
“What are they charging her with?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Rebecca nodded.
Daniel watched her test another marker on scrap paper.
Purple.
It worked.
She put it back in the cup.
He said, “Do you want to know?”
“Eventually.”
“I can call Hale.”
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“Not everything needs to happen immediately because you’re uncomfortable.”
He leaned back against the bed.
That sentence irritated him for nearly five minutes.
Then he realized she was right, which irritated him more.
Rebecca found a folded piece of notebook paper behind the desk.
“What’s this?”
Daniel watched her open it.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She handed it to him.
It was a drawing.
Three figures stood outside a square house.
Rebecca, identifiable by auburn hair.
Ava in blue.
Daniel in a navy suit.
Off to one side stood a fourth figure with yellow hair and a red dress.
Above Vanessa’s head, Ava had drawn a question mark.
Daniel stopped breathing for a moment.
On the back, in pencil, were the words:
Ask Dad after birthday.
Rebecca sat on the floor.
Neither spoke.
The clue had been there before Ava died.
Not a clue about the messages.
A clue about the family.
Daniel folded the paper along the existing crease.
Rebecca said, “She knew more than I thought.”
“Maybe.”
“She always did.”
He nodded.
After a while Rebecca asked, “Were you really going to leave?”
Daniel did not pretend not to understand.
“Yes.”
She looked toward the closet.
“When?”
“After the deal.”
“Vanessa told the truth about that.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca rubbed her palms against her knees.
“Did you love her?”
Daniel considered lying.
He had lied so much through omission that the impulse came automatically.
“Yes.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Do you still?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked at him sharply.
He could have given the expected answer.
No.
Of course not.
How could I?
Instead he said, “I don’t know what part of what I felt was real. I don’t know what real means when someone can do what she did.”
Rebecca nodded slowly.
“That’s probably the first useful answer you’ve given me.”
He looked at the drawing again.
“I loved being with her.”
Rebecca’s jaw tightened.
Daniel continued before courage disappeared.
“She made me feel uncomplicated.”
“And we complicated you.”
“Yes.”
The word hurt them both.
He forced himself to continue.
“At home, somebody always needed something. Ava needed homework checked. You wanted me to commit to weekends. The house needed repairs. My mother wanted dinner. Every promise had history attached.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“With Vanessa, a hotel room was just a hotel room.”
“So you loved not being accountable.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Yes.”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not calling it passion.”
He looked down at the paper.
Ava’s question mark was oversized.
Rebecca reached for the drawing.
Daniel gave it back.
She placed it in the desk drawer instead of the trash.
Vanessa’s attorney called Daniel two days later.
Daniel nearly refused the conversation, but his own lawyer advised him to listen.
Reese sounded older.
“My client wants to provide information before prosecutors make charging decisions.”
Daniel stood at his study window while reporters lingered outside the gate.
“What information?”
“She intends to acknowledge accessing Ava’s account.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Intends to acknowledge.”
“I’m using legal language because this is a legal matter.”
“It was my daughter’s voice.”
Reese was silent.
Daniel continued.
“What does Vanessa want from me?”
“She wants you to know she did not learn Ava was dead until after the acquisition meeting that afternoon.”
“That’s false.”
“She learned she had died after the afternoon session.”
“She heard Rebecca’s voicemail at nine London time.”
“Yes.”
“And sent the first message less than an hour later.”
“Yes.”
Daniel gripped the phone.
“What does she want?”
“A letter eventually.”
He laughed.
“About what?”
“Her cooperation. Her character. The context.”
Daniel ended the call.
Reese rang again.
Daniel did not answer.
That evening Hale came to the house.
He sat in the kitchen and accepted coffee from Rebecca.
May you like
Daniel had never seen the detective outside a suit before. He wore a pale-blue shirt with the sleeves rolled once.
Hale placed no evidence folder on the table.
