Chương 2
He walked away from the table, reached the windows, and stopped with his back to them. The storm threw blue light across his face every few seconds.
“My father was in Denver.”
“No,” Evelyn said.
Daniel turned.
“He was at dinner in Denver. I spoke to him that night.”
“He may have been in Denver earlier.”
“You’re telling me my father was here.”
“Yes.”
“With Rebecca.”
“I’m telling you his vehicle left seven minutes after hers.”
Daniel looked at Claire.
“And Michael?”
She pressed her lips together before speaking.
“He says he saw your father afterward.”
“After what?”
“The crash.”
Daniel stared at her.
A little muscle moved in his jaw.
“You’ve talked to him more than once.”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“Three.”
The answer hurt more than two would have.
Three meant planning.
Three meant continuation.
Three meant Claire had gone home after speaking with the brother Daniel had not seen in four years and had sat across from Daniel at breakfast knowing something about Rebecca that he did not.
He walked back to the table.
“Give me your phone.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“No.”
He blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll show you the messages. I’m not giving you my phone.”
“You secretly met my brother three times.”
“I know what I did.”
“And you hit me because I found out.”
Her face changed.
The shame came quickly and then, just as quickly, hardened into defensiveness.
“I hit you because I panicked.”
“That’s supposed to improve it?”
“No.”
“You thought I was going to say his name and somehow that justified—”
“No.”
“Then stop explaining it like it does.”
Claire’s eyes filled, but she did not cry.
Evelyn stepped half a pace away from the table. Daniel realized she was trying to make herself less present.
He did not want that.
“You stay.”
Evelyn stopped.
Daniel pointed at the log.
“You’ve had this for eight years. You said nothing.”
“That is correct.”
“My wife has known for eleven days. My brother apparently knows whatever this is. And all three of you decided I should come to a hotel in the middle of a blizzard and be surprised with it over dessert?”
Claire flinched.
“That wasn’t the plan.”
Daniel looked at the silver dome.
Under it was probably the lemon tart Claire had ordered for him because he never ate chocolate after dinner. He had once told her that on their third date. She still remembered.
He hated the tart suddenly.
“What was the plan?”
Claire wrapped both arms around herself.
“To let Evelyn show you the records first. Then Michael was supposed to come.”
Daniel’s attention sharpened.
“Michael is coming here?”
“He was.”
“Was?”
“The road closed twenty minutes ago.”
Daniel glanced toward the windows.
One of the black SUVs outside had disappeared beneath drifting snow up to the wheel wells.
His phone buzzed on the table.
Claire looked at it.
So did Evelyn.
Daniel picked it up.
Michael Carter.
For eight years Daniel had refused to delete his brother’s contact. He had also refused to answer most of his calls. There had been a period, after Rebecca’s funeral, when Michael called every Sunday evening. Daniel would watch the phone until it stopped.
Then every month.
Then birthdays.
Then nothing.
Four years had passed since the last real conversation.
Daniel answered.
Neither man spoke.
A faint rush of road noise came through the speaker.
Finally Michael said, “Dan.”
Daniel hung up.
Claire exhaled through her nose.
“That was mature.”
He looked at her so sharply she regretted it at once.
She rubbed her forehead.
“Sorry. That was stupid.”
“Yes.”
“I’m trying not to make this worse.”
“You have a remarkable method.”
That landed. Claire looked away.
Daniel picked up the old vehicle log.
“What did he tell you?”
Claire hesitated.
“Ask him.”
“I just did.”
“You hung up.”
“I changed my mind.”
Daniel called.
Michael answered before the first full ring.
“Dan.”
“Where are you?”
“County Road Nine. Maybe nine miles from the resort. State patrol turned everybody around.”
“Were you here the night Rebecca died?”
Silence.
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
Then Claire.
Michael’s voice came lower.
“Yes.”
Daniel’s fingertips tightened around the phone.
“Was Dad here?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Daniel shut his eyes.
The answer did not make anything clearer. It only removed something he had relied on for eight years.
“Did you see the crash?”
“No.”
“What did you see?”
“Dan, I should tell you in person.”
“You should have told me eight years ago.”
“I know.”
The quiet on the line was worse than an argument.
Daniel walked toward the fireplace.
“What did you see?”
Michael breathed out.
“I saw Dad’s Escalade in the lower service garage after Rebecca’s crash.”
“That proves nothing.”
“No.”
“Was it damaged?”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked toward the old log.
“Front left?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask him what happened?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He told me he’d hit a deer.”
Daniel almost laughed.
In all the years since Rebecca died, he had imagined thousands of impossible alternatives. A mechanical failure. A medical event. Someone chasing her. Someone else in the car. He had imagined them because grief behaved like a bad lawyer, constantly filing motions against reality.
A deer was insulting.
“What did you do?”
Michael did not answer.
Daniel waited.
“What did you do?”
“I drove the Escalade back to Denver.”
Claire turned away.
Daniel’s hand dropped to his side.
“You what?”
“Dad told me to take it to Larkin Auto before morning.”
“You took the car.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Rebecca was dead.”
“Yes.”
“You knew his car was damaged.”
“Yes.”
“I’m trying to understand the part where you thought this was normal.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then what did you think?”
“I thought he was scared.”
“So you helped him.”
“Yes.”
The word came without defense.
Daniel hated him slightly less for that and then hated himself for noticing.
Michael continued.
May you like
“I thought maybe he’d been near the accident. I thought maybe he’d seen something and panicked. I didn’t know what happened yet.”
“When did you know?”
