Chương 6
Bell waited.
Laura finally said, “I’m not answering that tonight.”
Bell nodded.
“Fair enough.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You can just not answer police questions?”
Bell said, “People can decline to answer plenty of questions.”
“Even when they’ve been pretending to be dead?”
Laura flinched.
Bell’s tone remained neutral.
“Being mistakenly or formally declared dead doesn’t automatically tell me what crime, if any, this woman committed. False records, identity documents, custody issues, old court orders—those are separate questions. I’m not sorting them out by guessing at eleven o’clock in a snowstorm.”
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“I hate how reasonable that sounds.”
Bell almost smiled.
“Most people do when they’re angry.”
He gave her a look.
“That was almost a joke.”
“Long night.”
Emily returned to her chair.
Laura stayed standing.
Bell pulled O’Connell aside.
They spoke quietly near the entrance.
Daniel watched them, then looked at Emily.
She was staring at his wedding ring.
He covered it instinctively with his other hand.
“Dad?”
He looked up.
There it was again.
The word.
Her voice was cautious now.
“Are you going to leave?”
Laura closed her eyes.
Daniel looked at Emily.
“I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow.”
She swallowed.
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
He walked over and crouched in front of her.
His knees popped audibly.
Under any other circumstance Emily would have laughed.
Daniel winced.
“Great. Betrayal and cartilage failure in the same evening.”
A tiny sound escaped Emily.
Not quite a laugh.
Laura pressed her lips together.
Daniel looked at his daughter.
“I’m angry.”
Emily nodded.
“I’m probably going to be angry for a while.”
Another nod.
“I may say things badly.”
“Already happening.”
“Fair.”
She looked at him then.
Daniel took a breath.
“But I am not leaving you.”
Emily’s lower lip trembled.
He kept his voice steady.
“You’re my kid.”
“What if I’m not?”
His face tightened.
“I taught you to ride a bike.”
“That’s not DNA.”
“You threw up in my mouth at a Fourth of July parade.”
Emily made a face.
“I was three.”
“You were four, and it was traumatic.”
“Dad.”
“I sat outside your room all night when you had pneumonia because you kept waking up scared.”
Her eyes filled.
“I drove six hours to pick you up from debate camp because you hated it and lied that you had food poisoning.”
“I did have food poisoning.”
“You ate two cheeseburgers on the drive home.”
“After I recovered.”
“Miraculous recovery.”
A tear moved down Emily’s cheek.
Daniel wiped it away with his thumb.
“Whatever a test says someday, if you want one, that doesn’t erase eighteen years.”
Emily glanced toward Laura.
“Did you know?”
Daniel followed her eyes.
“No.”
Laura looked at them.
Emily’s voice sharpened.
“You swear?”
“Yes.”
“You never suspected?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I thought your mother had a weird family.”
Laura gave him a look despite herself.
“You told me your parents were dead.”
Laura said, “They were.”
Daniel’s expression shifted.
“Actually?”
“Yes.”
“Can you understand why every fact now needs a footnote?”
“I do.”
He looked back at Emily.
“No. I never knew.”
Emily leaned forward and wrapped both arms around him.
Daniel held her.
Laura turned away.
She stood near the coffee machine pretending to read the brewing instructions.
Nobody believed her.
After a moment Emily looked over Daniel’s shoulder.
“Mom.”
Laura’s eyes closed.
“Come here.”
Laura turned.
Emily’s expression was conflicted, almost resentful of her own invitation.
Laura crossed the room slowly.
She stopped beside them.
Emily did not hug her.
She reached out and took Laura’s hand.
It was not forgiveness.
It was not rejection.
It was simply contact.
Laura lowered her head.
Daniel remained crouched beside his daughter, his wife’s fingers inches from his.
He did not touch them.
At midnight, the storm closed the road completely.
The resort offered rooms in a staff building below the main lodge, but Bell declined.
“We need privacy.”
Luis told her the security lodge had a back office and a small employee break room.
Bell arranged the chairs.
O’Connell brought sandwiches from a refrigerator meant for night staff.
No one was hungry.
Daniel ate half of one anyway because hunger had begun turning his anger into nausea.
The bread was dry.
He stared at it.
“This is a twenty-dollar sandwich upstairs.”
Emily looked at him.
“Thirty-two.”
“What?”
“I checked the room service menu.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Civilization deserves to end.”
Laura almost smiled.
Daniel saw it.
The smile disappeared from both faces.
That hurt too.
Bell spent forty minutes on the phone.
When she returned, she had more information and seemed less pleased to possess it.
“I’ve confirmed the missing-person case is real. So is the later presumed-death order.”
Daniel gestured toward Laura.
“And?”
“And fingerprints will give me a stronger identification than an old photograph.”
Laura said, “You already know.”
Bell looked at her.
“I prefer knowing things in ways other people can defend later.”
That sentence made Laura nod.
Bell continued.
“The child in the original case was female. Six months old. No verified recovery was ever made.”
Emily’s fingers tightened around her paper cup.
“What was her name?”
Laura stood abruptly.
Bell stopped.
Daniel looked at his wife.
“Why can’t she know her own name?”
Laura stared at the floor.
Emily’s voice shook.
“Was I named something else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Laura’s throat moved.
“I can’t.”
Emily laughed, wounded and incredulous.
“You can’t tell me my name?”
“The name was in public records.”
Bell said quietly, “It still is.”
Laura looked at her.
Bell understood.
“You believe using it could expose her.”
“Yes.”
Daniel said, “To the husband.”
Laura did not answer.
Bell asked, “Have you had contact with him since you disappeared?”
“No.”
“Direct or indirect?”
“No.”
“Have you monitored him?”
Laura hesitated.
Bell leaned back.
“That’s not a no.”
“Not recently.”
Daniel stared.
“How recently?”
“Daniel.”
“How recently?”
Laura said, “Years.”
“What does that mean?”
“Six.”
He laughed without humor.
“Very precise suddenly.”
“I checked once.”
“How?”
May you like
“Online.”
“What did you find?”
