Chương 9
“Right. Not your department.”
“I could guess.”
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Daniel looked toward Lily.
She was humming to herself while coloring.
“Was I that bad?”
Marcus answered carefully.
“I knew you then.”
“And?”
“You worked seventy-hour weeks.”
“That’s not abuse.”
“No.”
“I never hit her.”
“I know.”
“I never cheated.”
“I know.”
“I loved her.”
“I know.”
Marcus waited.
Daniel said, “That’s not enough, is it?”
“No.”
The answer hurt.
Daniel nodded even though Marcus could not see him.
“Find the other half.”
“I will.”
The break in the case came from Nora.
Not from Marcus.
Not from police.
Not from the expensive attorney or the trust records.
Three days after the yacht returned, Nora called Daniel shortly before midnight.
“I remembered something.”
He sat up in bed.
Lily was asleep in the next room with the hall light on.
“What?”
“The photo.”
Daniel was fully awake.
“What about it?”
“The day before we sailed, Ms. Mercer asked me where she could print something.”
“On the yacht?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“She said a boarding pass.”
Daniel rubbed his eyes.
“There’s a printer in the crew office.”
“I know. I showed her.”
“And?”
“She printed three pages. I didn’t look.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I know. But the printer stores job history.”
Daniel stood.
“Did you tell Captain Hayes?”
“I called him before you.”
“Good.”
“He checked.”
“What did she print?”
“A scanned photograph.”
Daniel stopped.
“The photograph?”
“Both halves.”
His hand tightened around the phone.
“Both?”
“Yes.”
“The original file is still in the printer queue?”
“Captain Hayes took the machine offline and contacted police.”
Daniel walked into the hall.
“Can you see the image?”
“No.”
“Don’t try.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Sorry.”
A small silence.
Then Nora said, “I’m learning your panic voice.”
Daniel leaned against the wall.
“I’m working on it.”
“I hope so.”
The police obtained the file the next morning.
Detective Ortiz called Daniel at eleven thirty.
“Come in.”
“Can’t you send it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to talk to you before you see it.”
Daniel looked at Lily.
Rachel had arranged for a trusted childcare professional to stay with her for the afternoon, a woman Lily already knew from school events.
Daniel hated leaving.
Lily hated being asked.
“Are you going to see the police?”
“Yes.”
“About Vivienne?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me after?”
Daniel almost said when you’re older.
He caught himself.
“I’ll tell you what I can.”
“That means no.”
“It means I won’t lie.”
Lily studied him.
“Okay.”
At the station, Ortiz placed a printed image on the table.
The photograph was whole.
Daniel recognized the day immediately.
Amelia’s thirty-first birthday.
Their apartment in Long Beach.
Lily, four months old, asleep against Amelia’s chest.
Daniel crouched beside them, grinning at the camera.
But the full photograph contained someone else.
At the far left stood another blonde woman.
Same face.
Shorter hair.
Thinner.
Vivienne.
Daniel stared.
“She was there.”
Ortiz nodded.
“I took this photo.”
“You used a timer?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t remember her?”
“No.”
His voice cracked.
Then he looked closer.
The woman at the far left wore a baseball cap pulled low and large sunglasses.
Daniel remembered a friend of Amelia’s visiting that afternoon.
A woman introduced as Vanessa.
He had gone to the grocery store.
When he returned, she was gone.
“You met her.”
“I met someone.”
Ortiz turned the photograph over.
The full handwritten message was visible.
Vivi—
If you’re reading this later, I’m sorry I couldn’t do it the way I promised. I’m scared of what happens when Daniel realizes I’m taking Lily. I need you to stay out of it unless I call. Please don’t turn this into another war. I mean it. She is my daughter before she is anything else.
A.
Daniel stopped reading.
His chest tightened so sharply he pressed a hand against it.
Ortiz waited.
He read it again.
“She was afraid of me.”
“I don’t know.”
“It says scared.”
“It says she was scared of what happens when you realize she’s taking Lily.”
“That’s afraid.”
“It may be.”
Daniel looked up.
“Why are you protecting me from the obvious?”
“I’m not.”
“Then say it.”
Ortiz leaned back.
“This isn’t about what I think you deserve to hear.”
He stared at the photograph.
“She was leaving.”
“Yes.”
“She asked Vivienne for help.”
“Apparently.”
“She told her to stay out unless she called.”
“Yes.”
Daniel pressed his fingers to his eyes.
“What does that have to do with now?”
Ortiz placed another document beside the photograph.
“Vivienne kept the other half.”
“Where?”
“Her attorney turned it over yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Because we obtained the digital version anyway.”
Daniel looked at the second paper.
It was a handwritten note dated three days before Amelia’s crash.
Vivi, I changed my mind. Don’t come tomorrow. I’m talking to him myself.
Below it, in different handwriting:
You always change your mind when he gets kind for five minutes.
Daniel felt sick.
“Vivienne wrote that.”
“That’s our working assumption.”
“Where was this?”
“With the photograph.”
“So they were fighting.”
“Maybe.”
“About me.”
“Yes.”
He read the line again.
You always change your mind when he gets kind for five minutes.
Daniel wanted to defend himself to a dead woman.
The impulse disgusted him.
Ortiz said, “There’s more.”
Of course there was.
“Vivienne admitted she was in California before Amelia died.”
Daniel looked up.
“She admitted it?”
“Through counsel.”
“Why?”
“Because we have enough records to establish it.”
“What did she say happened?”
“She helped Amelia prepare to leave.”
“And?”
“Amelia changed her mind.”
“And Vivienne?”
“She says she left California the morning of the crash.”
“Can you prove that?”
“We have travel records placing someone using her identity on a flight out of Los Angeles that morning.”
“So she didn’t kill Amelia.”
“We have no evidence she did.”
Daniel let out a breath he had not known he was holding.
Relief arrived.
May you like
Then guilt followed it.
He had wanted Vivienne to be responsible because it made the world simpler.
