Chương 5
“Yes.”
“Directly in front of you?”
“And about twenty other people.”
Alvarez wrote something.
“Did you know about the phone before tonight?”
“No.”
“You mentioned a photograph.”
Emma described it.
“Where is the photograph?”
“I put it back.”
“Why?”
Emma looked through the glass toward the dining room.
“Because I wasn’t looking for evidence.”
“What were you looking for?”
“Extra sheets.”
Alvarez nodded.
“Did you tell Mrs. Whitmore about the photograph?”
Emma hesitated.
“I asked her about Rachel.”
“When?”
“About six weeks ago.”
“What did she say?”
“That Rachel had been unstable after Ethan was born and Daniel did not like the boys hearing stories about her.”
“Did Mr. Whitmore tell you that?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else?”
“No.”
“So why did you believe her?”
Emma rubbed the edge of the chair.
“I worked for them.”
Alvarez waited.
Emma added, “You learn quickly which questions are considered inappropriate in houses like this.”
“Meaning wealthy houses?”
“Meaning houses where your health insurance depends on whether people think you’re discreet.”
Alvarez looked up.
“That sounds practiced.”
“It is.”
“Did you tell anyone you were concerned?”
“My sister.”
“Name?”
“Grace Carter.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I thought something in the house was weird.”
Alvarez almost smiled.
“That was your exact language?”
“Probably with more profanity.”
She wrote it down.
Then she asked, “What did you mean tonight when you said this was why Rachel never made it home?”
Emma took a breath.
“That needs context.”
“I have time.”
Emma told her about the photograph.
The locked cabinet.
Noah’s nightmares.
The way Victoria became tense whenever anyone mentioned Castle Creek Road.
A conversation Emma had overheard three weeks earlier between Victoria and an unknown man in Daniel’s office.
She had not understood it then.
Victoria had said, “There can’t be another device.”
The man had answered, “There isn’t.”
Emma had been carrying laundry past the doorway.
She had walked on.
Tonight, when the phone appeared and the SUV lights came on, the sentence returned.
“There can’t be another device.”
Alvarez stopped writing.
“You’re sure about those words?”
“Yes.”
“Could the man have been Owen Price?”
“I’d never heard his voice before.”
“Did you see him?”
“No.”
Alvarez leaned back.
“So your statement about Rachel not making it home was an inference.”
Emma felt embarrassed hearing it put that way.
“Yes.”
“Not something you know.”
“No.”
“That distinction is important.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Emma looked at the window.
Snow tapped softly against the glass.
“Sergeant?”
“Yes?”
“If I was wrong, I’ll say I was wrong.”
Alvarez closed the notebook.
“That’s not something we need to decide tonight.”
Daniel’s interview took longer.
Victoria’s took longest.
At eleven-thirty another deputy came downstairs carrying a rectangular walnut box from the primary bedroom.
Ethan saw it from the hallway.
“That one.”
Daniel stared at it.
The box contained photographs of Rachel.
More than forty.
Most had been removed from frames after her death.
Family vacations.
Hospital pictures after each child was born.
Rachel holding newborn Ethan.
Rachel and Caroline skiing.
Rachel asleep on a couch with Noah sprawled across her.
Daniel lifted one and turned it over.
Nothing.
Another.
Nothing.
Then he found handwriting.
Blue ink.
His face changed.
Caroline stood beside him.
“What?”
Daniel handed her the photograph.
Caroline read it.
“Oh, Rachel.”
Emma remained several feet away.
She did not ask to see.
Caroline looked at Alvarez.
“It says, ‘Backup stays off cloud. If D doesn’t believe me, show C.’”
Daniel sat down.
Caroline stared at the note again.
“C is me.”
Victoria stood at the far end of the dining room beside her attorney.
For the first time all night, she looked frightened.
Alvarez held out her hand.
“May I?”
Caroline gave her the photograph.
Daniel spoke without looking up.
“What didn’t I believe?”
No one answered.
A deputy emerged from the security room.
“Sergeant.”
Alvarez joined him.
They spoke quietly.
Then Alvarez looked at Daniel.
“The SUV plate is confirmed. Owen Price.”
Daniel stood.
“Did you find him?”
“His vehicle was picked up by a traffic camera heading north.”
“Can you stop him?”
“We’ve put out a locate request. That doesn’t automatically mean an arrest.”
Daniel’s frustration surfaced.
“He was sitting outside my house after—”
“I understand what happened.”
“Do you?”
Alvarez did not react.
“We need evidence before we decide what laws may have been broken.”
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
Caroline said, “Daniel.”
He lowered them.
She handed him a glass of water.
He did not drink it.
The black phone lay inside a clear evidence bag now.
A deputy had photographed it but had not attempted further unlock codes.
Daniel kept looking at it.
Finally he said, “I know the passcode.”
Alvarez turned.
“You do?”
“I think so.”
“Tell me.”
“031719.”
Caroline frowned.
“What is that?”
Daniel looked at the photograph in her hand.
“The day Rachel first told me she was afraid of Owen.”
The room became quiet.
Emma watched him.
“You never mentioned that,” Caroline said.
Daniel’s expression closed.
“I didn’t believe her.”
Victoria looked toward the floor.
Alvarez asked, “Why not?”
Daniel gave a dry, humorless laugh.
“Because Owen had worked for me for eleven years.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Daniel looked at her.
The sergeant did not soften the question.
“Why didn’t you believe your wife?”
He took a long time answering.
“Because she had been drinking.”
Caroline shut her eyes.
Daniel continued.
“She’d been having panic attacks. She thought people were following her.”
“Were they?”
“I thought no.”
“And now?”
He looked at the phone.
“Now I don’t know.”
Victoria spoke from across the room.
“Rachel accused everyone.”
Daniel turned.
Her attorney touched her arm.
She ignored him.
“She accused accountants. Drivers. Your board. Me. She was not well.”
Caroline stared at her.
“You told us she was depressed.”
“She was.”
“You never said she was afraid of Owen.”
“Because Owen wasn’t a threat.”
Daniel asked, “Then why was he outside?”
Victoria’s attorney whispered something.
May you like
Victoria’s mouth snapped shut.
Alvarez took the passcode.
