Chương 4
At six forty, Owen woke and asked whether he had school.
“No,” Claire said.
“Because of the bad man?”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to tell people?”
“No.”
He considered that.
“Can I tell Noah?”
“You can tell whoever you choose.”
“What if he tells Tyler?”
“He might.”
Owen frowned at the ceiling.
“Then I’m not telling Noah.”
He fell asleep again with his hand around the edge of Claire’s jacket.
Evan watched from the chair.
“I should have been here,” he said.
Claire did not answer.
“I changed the trip twice. I was supposed to fly tomorrow.”
“Why did Wade come?”
“I don’t know.”
“He told me to ask you about the wall.”
“He was trying to scare you.”
“He already had a baton in front of our children. He didn’t need a riddle.”
Evan rubbed both hands over his face.
“There are old personnel issues. He blamed me for his termination.”
“What did he do?”
“Misused company funds.”
“How much?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember the minibar charge from our honeymoon.”
He looked at her.
“That’s not fair.”
“No. It’s specific.”
“Somewhere above two hundred thousand. There were falsified invoices. He was given the opportunity to resign, and he refused. We referred the matter to law enforcement.”
“Was he charged?”
“The investigation didn’t go forward.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Ask the county.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Ask the county why the man you believed stole two hundred thousand dollars was never charged.”
Evan looked toward the sleeping children.
“You’re in shock.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make my questions a symptom.”
His gaze moved back to her. For a second he looked tired enough to be honest.
Then his phone vibrated, and the second passed.
“I have to handle this.”
“You have to answer me.”
“I have to keep Wade Holloway from turning an attempted kidnapping into a media circus built around whatever grievance he’s been feeding for three years.”
“He didn’t try to kidnap them.”
Evan stared at her.
“What?”
“He threatened them. He held Ruby. He used them to control me. That’s bad enough. Don’t improve the story for television.”
“You’re defending him?”
Claire almost laughed, but nothing about the question was funny.
“I kicked him onto the floor.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting until you give me one.”
By nine, a private security team Evan had hired was walking the property in matching navy jackets. A locksmith replaced the smart-lock control panel. Two men examined the camera system and discovered that the rear kitchen sensor had been deactivated using an administrator credential at 9:42 the previous night.
The credential belonged to Evan.
He explained that Wade must have retained or stolen the password.
The technician said the password had been changed six months earlier.
Evan asked to speak with him privately.
Claire stood at the kitchen island while the coffee machine hissed behind her. She had filled a mug and forgotten to drink from it. The silver wedding ring on her finger clicked against the ceramic when she tightened her hand.
Detective Ortiz returned at ten thirty with a warrant.
Evan’s attorney arrived seven minutes later.
His name was Philip Crane. He was lean, silver-haired, and spoke to Claire as though they had met many times, though she could only remember one charity dinner where he had spent twenty minutes talking about ski conditions.
“Claire, I’m deeply sorry,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“You should understand that the warrant is limited.”
“Then I assume the detectives will limit themselves.”
Crane smiled faintly.
“We’re all on the same side.”
Claire looked toward Ortiz.
The detective’s face remained blank.
Evan’s office door was unsealed. Officers photographed the room before touching anything. The office smelled of leather, printer toner, and the cedar blocks Evan kept in a cabinet because he disliked chemical moth repellents. There were built-in shelves, a fireplace, a wide desk, and framed photographs selected from family trips. In every picture, Evan stood slightly behind the children, one hand resting on somebody’s shoulder.
Wade had looked toward the wall behind the desk.
Investigators used a handheld scanner along the paneling. One section returned an irregular reading. A carpenter removed a narrow piece of molding and exposed a biometric safe no larger than a microwave.
Claire felt Evan look at her.
Ortiz asked him to open it.
“My attorney has advised me not to assist beyond the warrant’s requirements.”
“The warrant authorizes us to access it.”
“Then access it.”
A technician spent almost an hour preparing to drill the lock. Evan stood beside Crane, answering emails on his phone.
Claire took the children to Marisol’s house before the drilling began.
Ruby refused to leave until she saw the first metal shavings fall.
Marisol lived in a yellow two-story home with a cracked driveway and a basketball hoop her son had stopped using after college. The kitchen table was covered with coupons, mail, and a bowl containing one orange and three batteries. Claire had always liked the house because objects were allowed to remain where people actually put them.
Grace went upstairs to sleep in Marisol’s bed. Owen sat on the floor watching a cartoon with the volume muted. Ruby followed Claire into the kitchen.
“What’s in the wall?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dad knows.”
“Probably.”
“Is he in trouble?”
“I don’t know that either.”
Ruby picked at a chip in the tabletop.
“Adults say that when they know something bad.”
“Sometimes.”
“Are you doing it?”
Claire pulled out a chair.
“I’m saying it because there are five different bad things I can imagine, and guessing at one won’t help you.”
“What are the five?”
“I’m not listing them.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re ten.”
“I was ten last night.”
The sentence landed with no emphasis. Ruby did not cry. She looked at the batteries in the bowl.
Claire sat.
“Yes,” she said. “You were.”
Ruby’s mouth trembled once, then steadied.
May you like
“I thought you were going to miss.”
Claire knew which movement she meant. The kick. The baton. The tiny interval in which Ruby had understood more than either younger child.
