Chương 5
Laura sat anyway, leaving one chair between them.
For a while they listened to the storm.
Finally Emily asked, “Was I really six months old?”
Laura nodded.
“Where were we?”
Laura’s jaw tightened.
“I can’t do details here.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know who has access to those old reports. I don’t know what gets logged when he runs my name. I don’t know who gets notified.”
O’Connell heard that.
“Nobody outside law enforcement is receiving some automatic alert that you’ve been found.”
Laura looked at him.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Completely?”
He hesitated.
She gave a humorless smile.
“That’s what I thought.”
O’Connell’s expression remained calm.
“There are systems I don’t control. There are agencies I don’t work for. There may be old case notifications. I’m not promising you what I can’t promise.”
Laura nodded.
“Thank you.”
It was the first time she seemed to trust him.
Daniel noticed that too.
He said, “You trust him because he admits what he doesn’t know?”
Laura looked at him.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt them both.
Daniel looked toward the glass.
The guest with the phone was gone.
That did not make him feel better.
At ten forty-seven, another state police vehicle reached the checkpoint.
Sergeant Kim Alvarez entered carrying a canvas case, followed by a plainclothes investigator named Mara Bell who had driven from a regional office thirty miles away and looked irritated at the storm rather than impressed by the circumstances.
Bell was in her fifties, with short gray-streaked hair and reading glasses tucked into the collar of her sweater.
She looked at Laura once.
Then stopped.
“Oh,” she said.
It was not dramatic.
That made it worse.
Laura’s shoulders tightened.
Bell approached the counter.
“Rebecca?”
Laura did not respond.
Bell nodded as if she had expected that.
“I’m Mara Bell. I’m not going to ask you to explain your life in front of your family if there are safety concerns. But I need to establish some basics.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Do you know who she is?”
Bell looked at him.
“I know who she was reported to be.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
“Is she Rebecca Hale?”
Bell glanced at Laura.
“We’ll verify it.”
O’Connell handed her the envelope and photograph.
Bell put on thin gloves before touching them.
Laura watched the photograph disappear into a clear evidence sleeve.
Her face tightened.
Emily said, “Can I get that back?”
Bell looked at her.
“If it belongs to your family and there’s no legal reason to retain it, yes. I can’t tell you when.”
Emily nodded.
Bell’s manner softened slightly.
“You found it?”
“In the glove compartment.”
“Was it hidden?”
Emily thought about that.
“The compartment was stuck. I pulled the owner’s manual out and it fell from behind it.”
Laura looked at her sharply.
Emily met her eyes.
“So, yes.”
Bell turned to Laura.
“How long had it been there?”
“Years.”
“Daniel knew about it?”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the ceiling.
Bell seemed to recognize that every question was cutting somebody.
She did not stop asking them.
“Did Emily?”
“No.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.”
“Why carry it in a vehicle?”
Laura stared at the envelope.
“I didn’t.”
Bell waited.
Laura sighed.
“I put it there years ago. I forgot it was there.”
Daniel laughed.
“Of course.”
Laura looked at him.
“What?”
“You forgot the secret identity death file in the glove box.”
“I forgot the envelope.”
“That is not better.”
Bell said, “Daniel.”
He shook his head.
“No, I know. You need facts. Sorry.”
He walked away.
Bell returned to Laura.
“Why keep it at all?”
Laura did not answer.
Emily did.
“Because the man in the picture matters.”
Laura turned to her daughter.
Emily’s face had gone hard.
“Doesn’t he?”
Bell looked between them.
“Who is the man?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said.
Bell looked at Laura.
Laura said nothing.
Bell took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“All right.”
That mild response unsettled Laura more than pressure would have.
Bell put the glasses back on.
“Rebecca Hale was reported missing by her husband.”
Daniel looked at O’Connell.
“That’s what he said.”
Bell nodded.
“She and her infant daughter disappeared from their residence. There were competing accounts from relatives about whether she left voluntarily.”
Laura’s expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Bell noticed.
“So that part matters.”
Laura looked away.
“Was there evidence of violence?” O’Connell asked.
Bell glanced at him.
“Old file is incomplete in the digital system. I requested the archived material. I’m not going to characterize it until I’ve read it.”
Laura’s hands unclenched slightly.
Daniel said, “When was she declared dead?”
“Twelve years ago.”
“Who did that?”
“A court, apparently. I haven’t seen the underlying petition.”
“And the husband?”
Bell looked at the printed summary.
“He appears to have been involved in the proceeding.”
Daniel’s mouth tightened.
Emily asked, “Is he alive?”
Laura stood.
“Stop.”
Bell looked at her.
“I haven’t answered.”
“Don’t.”
Emily turned.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you hearing anything about him from a partial police file.”
Emily stared at her.
“You won’t tell me.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When you’re safe.”
“Safe from what?”
Laura’s eyes moved toward the covered windows.
That movement answered too much and not enough.
Emily’s anger weakened.
“Is he dangerous?”
Laura took a breath.
“I don’t know what he is now.”
Daniel said, “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only honest one.”
Daniel leaned against the wall.
Bell asked, “Did he hurt you?”
Laura’s eyes went distant.
Not dramatically. They simply stopped focusing on the room.
A second passed.
Then another.
Daniel watched.
He had seen Laura withdraw that way only a few times. Once when a car backfired behind them in San Francisco and she dropped a bag of groceries. Once at a wedding when an older man grabbed her elbow from behind to get her attention. She had smiled afterward, insisted she was fine, then spent twenty minutes in the restroom.
May you like
At the time Daniel had accepted her explanations.
Now those moments returned without permission.
