Chương 4
Natalie ended the call before she said something she would have to apologize for later.
Her boss, Warren, called soon afterward. He was normally brisk and incapable of ending a meeting without assigning one final task. Now he spoke too softly.
“We’ve covered your clients,” he said. “Your presentation went well before you left. None of that matters right now.”
“It does a little.”
“All right. It matters a little.”
“I abandoned the panel halfway through.”
“You received a call that your son had been hospitalized.”
“I told six hundred people I’d be back after a short break.”
“Half of them didn’t notice. The other half became deeply invested in the coffee urn.”
She closed her eyes.
Warren added, “I’m not trying to be funny.”
“I know.”
“Take whatever time you need.”
Natalie looked at Eli’s bare foot.
“That sentence doesn’t mean anything.”
“No,” Warren admitted. “It usually doesn’t. Take this week. We’ll speak Friday. If Friday is impossible, we won’t.”
That was better.
Rourke returned at four. Vanessa and Evelyn had left with their attorney after providing limited statements. Neither had been arrested. Officers had secured Evelyn’s house while they sought authorization for a more detailed search.
“You let them go,” Natalie said.
“I don’t decide who gets arrested because a hallway felt guilty.”
“Vanessa knew about the dinosaur.”
“Yes.”
“My mother lied about the shed.”
“She made a statement that appears inconsistent with physical evidence.”
“You talk like that so no one can accuse you of being human.”
“I talk like that because cases survive longer than feelings.”
Natalie looked at him. “And children?”
His face did not change.
“Sometimes,” he said.
He explained that a child advocacy specialist would speak with Eli only when his medical team approved. Natalie would not be present, which made her angry until he explained why. The interview would be recorded. Questions would be limited and non-leading. Eli might disclose nothing. He might confuse time. He might protect someone he loved.
“He’s six,” Natalie said.
“That’s why we don’t treat him like a witness in an adult interview room.”
“What happens if he says Vanessa locked him inside?”
“We compare that with everything else.”
“And if he says Grandma told him not to tell?”
“We compare that too.”
Natalie’s phone vibrated.
Evelyn.
She almost let it stop. Then she answered.
“What?”
Her mother’s breath came sharply through the speaker. “I assume the police have taken your phone.”
“No.”
“Then there is no reason you could not have called me.”
“There are several.”
“I am worried sick about Eli.”
“You left the hospital.”
“We were advised to leave.”
“You brought a lawyer before you brought me an explanation.”
“I brought a lawyer because that detective had already decided what happened.”
“What happened?”
Silence.
Natalie stood and moved farther from the ICU door.
“What happened to my son?”
“We put him to bed. We found him outside. I have told everyone the same thing.”
“Vanessa said she arrived at four.”
“She did.”
“Then why was she afraid of the dinosaur?”
“I cannot interpret your sister’s face for you.”
“The police found Eli’s sock inside your shed.”
The silence changed.
It was not surprise. Natalie had spent her life recognizing the quiet her mother made while rearranging a problem.
“Who told you that?”
“You knew.”
“I knew they were searching.”
“You knew the sock was there.”
“Natalie, listen to me. You have not slept. You are vulnerable to suggestion.”
“Was he locked inside?”
“No.”
The answer came too firmly.
“Did Vanessa put him there?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“How dare you?”
The familiar outrage might once have worked. It might have driven Natalie into apology simply to restore order. Now she watched Eli through glass while the monitor traced his heartbeat in green.
“What happened between bedtime and the neighbor finding him?”
“I have told you.”
“Tell me again.”
Evelyn inhaled.
“I checked him at two. He was asleep. At four-twenty, I heard the back door alarm. His room was empty. Vanessa arrived after I called her. We searched. Mr. Holloway’s dog found him behind the shed. I called emergency services.”
“You just said you found him.”
“We found him collectively.”
“Who opened the shed?”
“No one.”
“Then how did his sock get inside?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps he had been playing there during the afternoon.”
“You said no one had opened it in months.”
“That was an estimate.”
“Why was the dinosaur beside it?”
“Eli carried that thing everywhere.”
“Vanessa threw it there, didn’t she?”
Evelyn’s breath stopped for half a beat.
Natalie felt it through the phone.
Her mother recovered. “You are making accusations while your son needs you.”
“My son needed you Thursday night.”
“Natalie—”
She ended the call.
A minute later, a voice message arrived.
Evelyn sounded calmer.
I know you are frightened. We all are. But careless accusations cannot be withdrawn once made. Vanessa is fragile, and you know what public suspicion would do to her. We need to speak as a family before the police turn a tragic accident into something that destroys all of us.
Natalie listened twice.
She forwarded it to Rourke.
That evening, Eli woke more fully. The breathing tube had been removed, leaving him hoarse and irritated. He asked for water, then complained that it tasted like a spoon. Natalie did not understand until the nurse explained the metallic flavor was common after medication.
“I don’t like spoon water,” Eli said.
“I’ll file a complaint.”
“With who?”
“The water manager.”
He considered this. “Is that a real job?”
“Probably.”
It was the first conversation they had ever had that Natalie wanted to last forever.
He looked past her toward the window.
“Grandma coming?”
“No.”
“Aunt Ness?”
“No.”
His fingers worried the edge of the blanket.
“Are they mad?”
“Why would they be mad?”
He turned his face away.
Natalie almost asked again. Rourke’s warning and Dr. Rowan’s instructions held her still.
May you like
“You don’t have to talk about anything,” she said.
“Grandma says not talking is rude.”
