Chương 8
But she knew her number.
She had used it every day for years.
"That can't happen," Evan said quietly.
Mara looked at him.
"You tell me."
He took the phone from her hand, then stopped before touching it.
A strange hesitation crossed his face.
"What?"
"If this is evidence, don't let me accidentally change anything."
The answer surprised her.
Not because it was cautious.
Because it was the first time anyone had treated her like she was part of the investigation instead of the problem being investigated.
She held the phone again.
"What do you know about this?"
"Not enough."
"Try."
Evan looked toward the closed door.
"Northline had access to systems that tracked communications."
Mara frowned.
"Communications?"
"Not reading messages."
"Then what?"
"Metadata."
She waited.
"Who contacted who. When. From where."
Mara looked down at the phone.
"You're saying someone could make it look like a message came from my number?"
"I don't know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because the alternative is worse."
"What alternative?"
Evan did not answer.
She hated that he did not answer.
She hated even more that she understood why.
A knock came at the door before either of them could speak.
Mara quickly locked the phone screen.
The officer entered.
This time he was not carrying a folder.
He looked at the two of them and immediately noticed something had changed.
"What happened?"
Mara almost lied.
The habit was still there.
Years of being the person who kept things organized had taught her to control information.
But control was exactly what had brought her here.
"I received a message."
The officer looked at her.
"From who?"
She showed him the screen.
He studied it.
Then looked at the number.
"Is this your phone?"
"Yes."
"Your phone number?"
"Yes."
He did not react dramatically.
That was one reason she trusted him more than she wanted to.
He did not pretend certainty.
"Did you send this?"
"No."
"Has anyone else used your phone?"
"Not that I know of."
The officer looked at Evan.
"Who are you?"
"Evan Pierce."
The officer's expression changed slightly.
"You worked with Daniel Ellison."
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Eight years."
The officer nodded.
"Then you should probably leave."
Mara looked up.
"What?"
The officer turned to her.
"Ms. Ellison, if this involves your brother and his business, everyone connected to him becomes a question."
"Evan helped me."
"I understand."
"No, you don't."
Her voice sharpened.
"He is the only person who has told me anything without making me feel like I am too fragile to handle it."
The officer looked at her for a moment.
Then he glanced at Evan.
"I didn't say he was involved."
"But you think he might be."
"I think everyone involved might be."
Evan stood.
Mara looked at him.
"Where?"
He gave a small, humorless smile.
"Apparently somewhere less suspicious."
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then he walked out.
The officer waited until the door closed.
"Do you trust him?"
Mara looked at the empty doorway.
"No."
The officer nodded.
"Good."
She looked at him.
"That is not what you expected me to say."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because people usually choose a side too quickly."
Mara looked back at her phone.
"I don't know what side anyone is on."
The officer pulled a chair closer.
"That's probably the most useful thing you've said."
She frowned.
"Useful?"
"People get hurt because they decide what they want the truth to be before they know what it is."
The comment bothered her.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it sounded like something she needed to hear.
"What happens now?"
"We need to examine your phone."
She immediately tightened her grip.
"Can you?"
"With permission."
"And if I say no?"
"Then we proceed differently."
Mara looked at the device.
The thing that had been part of every ordinary day of her life.
Photos.
Messages.
Bank alerts.
Her mother's voicemail.
A small rectangle that carried pieces of who she was.
She handed it over.
"Take it."
The officer accepted it carefully.
As he turned to leave, Mara stopped him.
"Officer."
He looked back.
"What was the name again?"
"The woman?"
"Claire."
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
"You know something."
"No."
"You hesitated."
The officer looked toward the hallway.
"Claire Whitmore was reported missing by her sister."
Mara waited.
"And?"
"And Daniel Ellison filed the initial witness statement."
The room went silent.
"When?"
"Three days before your accident."
Mara felt the air leave her lungs.
"Three days?"
The officer nodded.
"That means Daniel knew she was missing before he called me."
"Yes."
"And he didn't tell me."
"No."
Mara looked down.
A memory came back.
Daniel's phone ringing during dinner.
The way he had walked outside to answer.
The way he returned and said nothing.
She had asked if everything was okay.
He had smiled.
"Just work."
A simple answer.
A normal answer.
A lie.
The officer left with her phone.
Mara remained alone for the first time all day.
She expected the loneliness to feel frightening.
Instead, it felt clear.
No one was telling her what to think.
No one was choosing what she could handle.
She reached for the transaction record again.
Ellison Medical Solutions.
She read the name until it stopped looking like words.
Then she grabbed the hospital remote and searched the television channels without turning anything on.
She needed noise.
Something meaningless.
A cooking show played silently while she opened the notebook from her purse.
The old one.
The one she carried because she wrote down things she could not trust herself to remember.
Most pages were work notes.
Shipping numbers.
Meeting reminders.
Phone calls.
Then she found an entry from two months earlier.
She stopped.
Daniel's name.
She had forgotten writing it.
Daniel wants warehouse access reports.
Below that:
Says it's for insurance review.
Mara stared at the words.
She remembered the moment now.
Daniel had called her while she was leaving work.
He sounded casual.
May you like
Almost bored.
She had sent him a few reports because she trusted him.
