Chapter 5
We left the diner with three police cars.
Nobody wanted Rachel anywhere near the old house.
Rachel refused to stay behind.
“That recording ruined my life.”
Detective Hale stared at her.
“And Donna may be waiting.”
“She already found my son.”
Thomas stepped between them.
“I’ll go.”
Rachel laughed bitterly.
“You think I trust you with it?”
His face fell.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.”
Eli tugged her sleeve.
“Mom, I don’t want you to go.”
Everything stopped.
Rachel looked down.
Eli’s face was pale.
His breathing had become shallow.
She crouched.
“Baby?”
He pressed a hand against his chest.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
I recognized panic before she did.
Or maybe asthma.
Or both.
Rachel reached into her coat pocket and pulled out an inhaler.
She shook it.
Nothing.
Her face changed.
“Eli.”
Thomas moved forward.
“What does he need?”
Rachel ignored him.
She pressed the empty inhaler again.
“Come on.”
Eli started wheezing.
Thomas grabbed his phone.
“I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No hospital,” Rachel said automatically.
Then she looked at her son.
Her fear changed.
“Call.”
Thomas was already speaking.
The ambulance arrived within minutes.
Those minutes felt endless.
Eli sat against Rachel.
His small chest pulled hard with every breath.
Thomas knelt several feet away.
He looked helpless.
I had never seen a wealthy man look so poor.
Nothing he owned mattered.
Not then.
When paramedics put an oxygen mask over Eli’s face, Rachel climbed into the ambulance.
Thomas reached for the door.
Rachel looked at him.
He stopped.
“Can I come?”
Her eyes flicked toward Eli.
After a long silence, she nodded.
Thomas climbed inside.
The doors closed.
Detective Hale turned toward me.
“You’re not family.”
“I know.”
“You can go home.”
I looked at the diner.
At Donna’s empty office.
At the bloodless battlefield this afternoon had become.
“I think I’m already involved.”
He sighed.
“Then ride with me.”
The old house was in Lincoln Park.
Three stories.
Red brick.
White trim.
Beautiful in a way that made Rachel’s years of poverty feel even more cruel.
Hale parked across the street.
Luis sat in the back seat beside me.
Two patrol cars pulled up behind us.
Hale turned.
“Tell me exactly where the evidence is.”
Luis looked at the house.
“Fireplace.”
“Inside?”
“Behind a loose brick.”
“Which room?”
“Upstairs bedroom.”
Hale studied the dark windows.
“Why hide it here?”
Luis swallowed.
“Because Donna hated this house.”
“Why?”
Thomas wasn’t there to answer.
Luis did.
“Thomas bought it for Rachel.”
I looked at him.
“She hated Rachel that much?”
Luis shook his head.
“It wasn’t only hate.”
“What was it?”
“Control.”
He stared at the house.
“Donna had controlled Thomas since they were kids.”
“How?”
“Their mother died young. Their father worked constantly. Donna became everything to Thomas. Sister. Protector. Adviser.”
“And Rachel changed that.”
“Yes.”
Luis looked at me.
“Thomas started making decisions without Donna.”
“Marriage?”
“That too.”
He lowered his voice.
“Rachel convinced Thomas to separate some restaurant accounts from Charles.”
“That exposed the theft.”
“Exactly.”
Hale opened his door.
“Stay here.”
I didn’t.
Neither did Luis.
The officers entered first.
The front door showed no forced entry.
Inside, dust covered the furniture.
Everything looked frozen in time.
A couch wrapped in plastic.
Empty picture hooks.
A dining table under a sheet.
Luis led us upstairs.
The bedroom door was open.
His face tightened.
“I left it closed.”
Hale raised his gun.
The other officers moved ahead.
Nobody inside.
The fireplace stood against the far wall.
One brick had already been removed.
Luis rushed forward.
“No.”
Behind it was an empty cavity.
The recording was gone.
Hale looked around.
“Donna beat us here.”
Luis stared into the hole.
“She couldn’t know.”
“Unless she knew where you hid it.”
“I never told anyone.”
I looked at the fireplace.
Something bothered me.
“Why remove only one brick?”
Hale turned.
“What?”
“If Donna was searching, how would she know the exact brick?”
Luis froze.
I continued.
“She knew exactly where to look.”
Hale stared at him.
“You told someone.”
“No.”
“Think.”
Luis’s face changed.
“There was one person.”
“Who?”
“My daughter.”
Hale’s voice sharpened.
“Where is she?”
“Chicago.”
“Name?”
“Marisol.”
“Call her.”
Luis pulled out his phone.
He dialed.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
His hands started shaking.
“She always answers me.”
Hale took the phone.
“What’s her address?”
Before Luis could answer, something creaked downstairs.
Every officer turned.
A second later, glass shattered.
“Police!”
Footsteps thundered toward the back.
Two officers ran downstairs.
Hale pointed at us.
“Stay here.”
He followed.
I rushed to the bedroom window.
A figure ran through the backyard.
Black coat.
Blond hair.
Donna.
“She's outside!”
Hale shouted from below.
Police poured through the rear door.
Donna reached the alley.
A dark sedan waited.
She jumped in.
It sped away.
One officer ran toward his cruiser.
Another radioed the plate.
Then Luis made a terrible sound behind me.
I turned.
He was staring at the floor.
A phone lay beneath the bed.
Not Donna’s.
Luis picked it up.
The screen was cracked.
A photo appeared on the lock screen.
Luis and a young woman smiling together.
“My daughter.”
His voice broke.
“Marisol’s phone.”
Hale returned upstairs.
Luis held it toward him.
“She was here.”
Hale’s expression hardened.
He started giving orders into his radio.
Then the broken phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone stopped.
Hale put it on speaker.
“Hello?”
Donna’s voice came through.
“Luis.”
He lunged toward the phone.
“Where is my daughter?”
Donna laughed softly.
“You should have stayed dead.”
“Donna!”
“You kept something that belonged to me.”
“You leave her alone.”
“Then bring me the copies.”
Hale mouthed, Keep her talking.
Luis’s face twisted.
“What copies?”
“The envelope you took to the diner.”
Donna knew.
She knew everything.
“I don’t have them.”
“Then get them.”
“Where is Marisol?”
A woman screamed faintly in the background.
Luis nearly collapsed.
“Papa!”
“Marisol!”
Donna said, “Midnight.”
“Where?”
“The old Fulton warehouse.”
Hale began writing.
Donna continued.
“Come alone.”
Luis looked at Hale.
Donna laughed again.
“And Detective Hale?”
Hale froze.
“I know you’re listening.”
The line went silent.
For the first time, I saw real surprise on Hale’s face.
Donna said, “If I see police, Marisol disappears exactly the way Rachel did.”
Then she hung up.
Luis sat on the bed.
His hands covered his face.
“This is my fault.”
Hale crouched beside him.
“No.”
“She knows your name.”
“I noticed.”
“How?”
Hale didn’t answer.
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Then his expression changed.
“What?”
He answered.
“Hale.”
Silence.
His jaw tightened.
“When?”
More silence.
He looked toward us.
“I’m on my way.”
He hung up.
“What happened?” I asked.
He slid the phone into his pocket.
“Donna’s diner security server just caught fire.”
Luis stared at him.
“Evidence.”
“Yes.”
“Can she destroy the customer video?”
“No.”
Hale walked toward the door.
“But that’s not the problem.”
“What is?”
He looked at me.
“The fire department found a body inside Donna’s office.”
My stomach dropped.
“Whose?”
Hale’s eyes went to Luis.
“We don’t know yet.”
But twenty minutes later, we did.
The body carried identification.
Daniel Crowe.
The retired police officer.
The same man Rachel had trusted seven years earlier.
May you like
And the medical examiner found something clenched inside his burned hand.
A small brass key.
