Chương 4
“That is exactly what people say right before they hide something.”
He looked tired.
Not annoyed.
Not offended.
Just tired.
“I found a file folder near the old maintenance road by the reservoir.”
“Near Daniel’s car?”
“Yes.”
“And it has my name on it.”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
Ethan hesitated.
That hesitation made the room feel smaller.
“Records.”
“What kind of records?”
“Copies of emails.”
Mara laughed once.
It was not a happy sound.
“Emails.”
“Yes.”
“My brother disappears for eleven years, you find his car, someone sends me a letter in the middle of the night, and now there are emails.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“No, you don’t.”
She walked away from the table and pressed both hands against the kitchen counter.
“You found something connected to him and me, and you are standing here deciding how much truth I can handle.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Ethan looked at the letter.
“I’m trying to figure out whether the person who sent this wanted you to find the truth or wanted you to find a version of it.”
The words stayed between them.
Mara hated that they sounded reasonable.
She hated even more that Daniel would have said something similar.
He had always been suspicious of simple explanations.
When they were kids, he used to take apart broken radios and leave screws scattered across the dining table.
Their mother would complain.
Mara would complain louder.
Daniel would just shrug and say the inside mattered more than the outside.
She had not thought about that in years.
Not until now.
“What do the emails say?”
Ethan reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out a small evidence bag.
Inside was a flash drive.
Mara stared at it.
“That was with the documents?”
“Yes.”
“Who collected it?”
“Detectives at the scene.”
“Can I see it?”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s evidence.”
The answer was practical.
Professional.
The kind of answer she would have accepted from someone else.
But not tonight.
Tonight everything sounded like another locked door.
“You think I did something?”
Ethan looked confused.
“What?”
“You keep saying evidence.”
“Mara.”
“No, answer me.”
Her voice rose before she could control it.
“Do you think I’m part of this?”
Ethan was quiet for a moment.
“No.”
The speed of the answer bothered her.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
That was better.
The honesty made her stop.
Ethan looked at the floor.
“I don’t know what happened eleven years ago.”
The rain had weakened outside.
The silence afterward was almost worse.
“I know Daniel Reed was listed as a voluntary disappearance.”
Mara looked at him.
“I know there were arguments before he left.”
Her jaw tightened.
“I know you were the last person to speak with him.”
She looked away.
“But I also know someone mailed you a letter containing information that should not have been public.”
He paused.
“And I know your brother kept records.”
“Records of what?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Mara sat down.
Her legs suddenly felt unreliable.
For eleven years, she had imagined Daniel leaving in a hundred different ways.
Sometimes he was angry.
Sometimes he was relieved.
Sometimes he was living somewhere warm where nobody knew his name.
She had never imagined him building a trail back to her.
“Why would he keep records?”
Ethan placed the evidence bag back into his pocket.
“Maybe because he was afraid.”
“Daniel wasn’t afraid of much.”
“Everyone is afraid of something.”
She looked at him.
“You sound like you knew him.”
“I didn’t.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Mara noticed.
“You’re lying.”
Ethan’s expression changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Mara.”
“You hesitated.”
“That doesn’t mean I knew him.”
“It means there’s something you’re not saying.”
He looked toward the window.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then he said, “My father worked at Millstone County Utilities.”
The name meant nothing.
The place did.
The reservoir.
The old maintenance roads.
The area where Daniel’s car had been found.
“He knew Daniel?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
Mara studied him.
She had spent years learning how people avoided painful subjects.
Daniel avoided by joking.
Her mother avoided by cleaning.
Mara avoided by becoming useful.
Ethan avoided by choosing exact words.
“What did your father do there?”
“Maintenance supervisor.”
“And?”
“And he died six years ago.”
She waited.
Ethan looked uncomfortable.
“He had files.”
“About Daniel?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I do not know.”
The frustration in his voice was the first real emotion she had seen from him.
It made him seem less like an officer and more like a person.
A person carrying something heavy.
“Why didn’t you tell me this immediately?”
“Because it may have nothing to do with your brother.”
“But you thought about it.”
“Yes.”
“And you still came here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ethan looked at the letter again.
“Because when I saw Daniel’s name, I remembered my father saying something years ago.”
“What?”
“He said some people disappear because they want a new life.”
Mara waited.
“And some people disappear because someone else needs them gone.”
The apartment seemed colder.
She hated how easily the sentence entered her mind.
She hated that part of her had already believed something similar.
“Did your father hurt him?”
Ethan looked almost offended.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Again.
That word.
Always that word.
Mara leaned back.
She was exhausted from hearing honesty.
Lies would have been easier.
“What happens now?”
Ethan stood.
“Now I take you to the station.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then I leave.”
“That’s it?”
“I can’t force you.”
She looked at him.
“That must be frustrating.”
“What?”
“Not knowing.”
A faint smile crossed his face.
“It is.”
For the first time that night, Mara believed him.
She grabbed her coat from the chair.
The blue one Daniel used to tease her about.
“You still have that thing?” he had asked once.
May you like
“It works.”
“It looks like it survived a war.”
