Chương 8
Dennis looked toward the operations floor, then lowered his voice.
“If anybody bothers you about it, send them to me.”
“Please don’t turn it into a workplace announcement.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t tell people Ethan’s some criminal mastermind.”
“I never thought he was that smart.”
Rachel looked at him.
Dennis lifted both palms.
“Too soon.”
“Yes.”
“Noted.”
He stood.
Then he said, “You know what bothers me?”
“What?”
“He used our system.”
Rachel understood.
Dennis was not talking about her marriage.
He was talking about work.
The access credential Ethan allegedly copied existed because Rachel needed to enter controlled employee parking before dawn and after midnight. The idea that someone had manipulated that system offended Dennis in a separate, almost comforting way.
“It bothers me too.”
“Good. I already asked IT security to audit copied access events.”
Rachel sat straighter.
“You did?”
“Don’t get excited. Half our technology was purchased when people still rented DVDs.”
“That’s not true.”
“Spiritually true.”
The audit produced something the criminal investigation had not yet found.
Three other entries using Rachel’s credential identifier had occurred while her own physical badge simultaneously registered inside terminal operations.
Impossible for one badge.
Possible for a clone.
One of those entries happened at 12:46 A.M. on a night Ethan had texted her from Denver.
Investigators pulled additional footage.
The masked man’s face remained hidden.
But this time he returned to a white utility van.
The plate was obscured by glare.
The van had a damaged left rear taillight.
Rachel knew a white utility van with a damaged left rear taillight.
Ethan’s subcontracting business owned one.
She did not call Brooks immediately.
That surprised her.
Instead she sat at her desk and stared at the still image Dennis had forwarded through the proper security channel.
Months earlier she would have experienced the urge to prove.
See? See? See?
Now another thought came first.
Do it correctly.
She called Brooks.
“I have something that may be relevant.”
Brooks arrived within an hour.
She did not praise Rachel for noticing.
She did not say they had him.
She asked where the image came from, who had accessed it, whether the original video remained in airport custody, and which administrator generated the still.
Rachel answered everything.
Then Brooks said, “Good.”
One word.
Rachel understood it meant she had not damaged the evidence by trying to be helpful.
She felt absurdly proud.
That evening Ethan’s sister, Melissa, sent a text.
Can we talk without lawyers?
Rachel showed it to Karen.
Karen called immediately.
“Do not meet her alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do you want to answer?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you think she wants?”
“Information. Or to give me information.”
“Or to get you to say something Ethan can use.”
Rachel hated that Karen was probably right.
“What can I say?”
“You can say all communication about the case should go through counsel.”
“That sounds hostile.”
“It sounds represented.”
Rachel stared at Melissa’s message.
Melissa was not Linda.
She and Rachel had never been close, but they had exchanged birthday gifts and once spent an entire Christmas Eve drinking cheap wine in the laundry room because Ethan and his mother were arguing about a turkey.
Rachel typed:
I’m not comfortable discussing the investigation privately. If there’s something important you think I need to know, please send it to Karen or Detective Brooks.
She sent the contact information.
Melissa replied five minutes later.
It’s about a cabin.
Rachel’s pulse jumped.
She forwarded the message to Brooks.
Brooks called Melissa.
By ten that night, the cabin had become the first clear answer to the question Sophie’s sentence created in the garage.
Melissa’s husband owned a hunting cabin in northern Wisconsin.
It was usually empty in late winter.
Two weeks earlier Ethan had asked whether he could use it “for a few days to clear his head.”
Melissa gave him the lockbox code.
He asked whether the place had reliable cell service.
She said no.
He said, “Even better.”
That had not seemed sinister at the time.
Melissa told Brooks she had assumed he wanted privacy during the divorce.
Then, three days before the garage confrontation, Ethan asked if there was enough propane for a child to stay comfortably.
Melissa laughed and asked whether he was taking Sophie.
Ethan said maybe.
Melissa reminded him that his parenting time did not begin until Friday.
He replied, “Things might change.”
She did not call Rachel.
When Melissa told her that later, she cried.
Rachel did not comfort her.
That became one of Rachel’s uglier memories of the month.
They met at Karen’s office after Brooks finished interviewing Melissa.
Melissa sat with both hands around a paper cup of water.
“I should have called you.”
Rachel said nothing.
“I thought he was angry. I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think what?”
Melissa’s eyes reddened.
“I didn’t think he’d take her.”
“Why not?”
“Because he loves her.”
The answer made Rachel so angry she laughed.
Melissa flinched.
Rachel stood and walked to the window.
Below them, traffic moved through a gray afternoon.
Karen said quietly, “Rachel.”
“No.”
She turned.
“He loves her. Great. What does that sentence excuse?”
“Nothing,” Melissa said.
“Then stop using it.”
“I’m not excusing him.”
“You gave him a cabin code.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You knew our custody schedule.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he asked about bringing Sophie early.”
“Yes.”
“And you decided not to know.”
Melissa began crying.
Rachel felt nothing generous.
Karen let the silence sit.
Eventually Rachel said, “I’m sorry.”
Melissa wiped her face.
“No. Don’t.”
“I’m sorry I said it like that.”
“But you’re right.”
“I don’t know if I’m right.”
Melissa looked at her.
“That’s worse.”
Rachel sat down again.
Melissa told them one more thing.
Ethan had borrowed her husband’s old SUV on two occasions because, he said, the utility van needed transmission work.
The SUV had no connected navigation system.
No company logo.
No toll transponder.
“He asked that?” Rachel said.
May you like
Melissa nodded.
“He said he was tired of getting tracked for work mileage.”
