Chapter 6
The suitcase changed the investigation.
Until that moment, Linda was a grandmother accused of abusing children.
Now detectives were asking questions about a disappearance from nearly three decades earlier.
Ryan and I went home in silence.
Neither of us wanted Lily to see our faces like that.
Jennifer met us at the door.
“She’s watching cartoons.”
I nodded.
“How is she?”
“She asked twice if Grandma was coming over.”
My stomach clenched.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
“Did she ask why?”
“She said, ‘Because Grandma is in trouble?’”
Ryan looked toward the living room.
Jennifer lowered her voice.
“I told her grown-ups were handling it.”
“Good.”
Then Lily appeared around the corner.
“Mommy!”
I dropped my bag and opened my arms.
She ran into me.
Ryan knelt beside us.
For several minutes, nobody talked about Linda.
We sat on the floor.
Lily showed me a drawing she had made.
Three people holding hands.
Me.
Ryan.
Her.
No grandmother.
I wondered whether that meant anything.
Then I reminded myself not to turn every line from a crayon into evidence.
Lily needed parents.
Not investigators.
That afternoon, Ryan’s family started calling.
The first was Aunt Carol.
I heard Ryan answer in the kitchen.
“Hello?”
Then silence.
His shoulders stiffened.
“No.”
Another pause.
“No, I’m not discussing bail.”
I walked closer.
“You need to stop.”
His face darkened.
“She threw my daughter into a pool.”
He listened.
“That is not a misunderstanding.”
Another pause.
Then he laughed.
“You want to talk about Sarah pushing Mom into a cake?”
I crossed my arms.
Of course.
Linda had already found a way to make herself the victim.
Ryan’s voice rose.
“My daughter was dragged by her hair!”
Lily looked up from the couch.
I immediately walked over and turned the television louder.
Ryan noticed.
He lowered his voice and stepped outside.
Ten minutes later he returned.
“What did she want?” I asked.
“She says the family is worried.”
“About Linda?”
“About the scandal.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“She says we should resolve things privately.”
“Police found recordings.”
“I told her.”
“And?”
“She said Mom had always believed in documenting discipline.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
Ryan looked furious.
“Apparently that makes filming a terrified child in a closet normal.”
“Did you ask Carol about Emily?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That Emily was difficult.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The family script.
Any child who complained became difficult.
Any mother who objected became dramatic.
Any husband who challenged Linda became weak.
Every word was designed to protect one person.
Linda.
“What about Anna?” I asked.
Ryan’s expression shifted.
“She hung up.”
I looked at him.
“When you mentioned Anna?”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
We both knew it.
I picked up my phone.
“Call Detective Alvarez.”
Ryan nodded.
Before I could dial, someone knocked.
Three hard knocks.
Ryan and I froze.
Lily ran toward the door.
“I’ll get it!”
“No!” we both shouted.
She stopped.
Her face fell.
I immediately softened.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Mommy just needs you to stay with Aunt Jen.”
Jennifer led her toward the kitchen.
Ryan looked through the peephole.
His face changed.
“Who is it?”
“My uncle.”
“Which one?”
“Dad’s brother. Michael.”
I barely knew him.
He lived two hours away and rarely attended family events.
Ryan opened the door but did not invite him in.
Michael was in his late sixties.
Tall.
Thin.
White hair.
He looked exhausted.
“Can we talk?”
Ryan glanced at me.
“What about?”
“Your mother.”
“No.”
Michael lowered his voice.
“About Anna Becker.”
Ryan went still.
I stepped closer.
“How do you know we’re asking about her?”
Michael looked at me.
“Carol called.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
“So the whole family knows.”
“Not everything.”
“What do you know?”
Michael glanced toward the street.
“Can I come in?”
“No.”
Michael nodded once.
“Fair enough.”
Then he said,
“Your father called me the night the Beckers left.”
Ryan stopped breathing.
“What?”
Michael rubbed his hands together.
“It was almost midnight.”
“What did Dad say?”
“He asked me to come over.”
“To your parents’ house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said Linda needed help.”
I felt cold.
Ryan stared at his uncle.
“What kind of help?”
Michael looked older with every second.
“He wouldn’t explain over the phone.”
“Did you go?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Michael looked at me.
Then back at Ryan.
“Your mother was in the backyard.”
My stomach dropped.
“Anna?” Ryan whispered.
“No.”
“Her mother?”
Michael’s eyes closed.
“Yes.”
I gripped the doorframe.
“What happened to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie,” Ryan said.
Michael opened his eyes.
“I swear I don’t know what happened after I left.”
“After you left?”
Michael nodded.
“What did you see?”
He swallowed.
“Donna Becker was sitting on the patio.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
I nearly collapsed with relief.
Ryan leaned forward.
“Was she hurt?”
“She had blood on her mouth.”
My relief vanished.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did Mom say?”
“That Donna attacked her.”
“And you believed her?”
“At first.”
Michael looked ashamed.
“She said Donna came over screaming accusations.”
“What accusations?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Did Dad?”
“No.”
“What did Donna say?”
Michael took a breath.
“She kept saying, ‘Where is Anna?’”
A chill ran through me.
Ryan’s voice dropped.
“Anna wasn’t with her?”
“No.”
“Where was she?”
“I don’t know.”
Michael looked at the ground.
“Donna was terrified.”
“What did you do?”
“I told Thomas to call the police.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He said it would ruin everything.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“That sounds like Dad.”
Michael flinched.
“He was scared.”
“Of Mom?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Ryan looked stunned.
Michael continued.
“Your father was always scared of Linda.”
“He never looked scared.”
“People don’t always look scared.”
Ryan stared at him.
“So what happened?”
“I left.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“You left?”
Michael’s eyes filled.
“I had two kids at home. I told myself it was none of my business.”
“A bleeding woman was asking where her daughter was!”
“I know.”
“You left her there?”
“I know.”
Ryan shoved the door open wider and moved toward Michael.
I caught his arm.
“Ryan.”
He stopped.
Michael didn’t defend himself.
“I have regretted it for twenty-seven years.”
Ryan’s voice shook.
“Regret doesn’t tell us where she is.”
“No.”
“What happened the next day?”
“I called Thomas.”
“And?”
“He said everything was handled.”
“What does that mean?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“Did you ever see Donna again?”
“No.”
“Anna?”
“No.”
My chest tightened.
“What about the suitcase?”
Michael looked at me.
“What suitcase?”
“Police found one with A.B. on it.”
His face changed.
Not recognition.
Fear.
Ryan saw it.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“You do.”
Michael took a step backward.
“I need to go.”
Ryan grabbed his sleeve.
“You came here.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“Why now?”
Michael pulled free.
“Because I thought it was finally over.”
“What was over?”
Michael looked at both of us.
Then toward the house, where Lily’s laughter drifted faintly from the kitchen.
His face crumpled.
“Your mother called me three weeks ago.”
Ryan froze.
“What?”
“She asked me if I still remembered the summer the Beckers moved.”
I felt every muscle in my body tense.
“What did you say?”
“That I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“What did she want?”
“She asked if I had ever told anyone.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
“Why would she ask that after twenty-seven years?”
Michael looked toward Lily’s voice.
“I think something scared her.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Ryan stared at him.
“Did she mention Lily?”
Michael’s silence was enough.
I stepped forward.
“What did she say about my daughter?”
He looked at me.
“She said Lily had become nosy.”
My blood ran cold.
“Nosy about what?”
“She didn’t say.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
I thought back.
Three weeks.
Lily had stayed at Linda’s house three weeks earlier for four hours.
I remembered picking her up.
She was holding her stuffed unicorn.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
In the car she had asked me a strange question.
“Mommy, what happens if you find something you aren’t supposed to?”
I had assumed she meant a hidden birthday present.
I had laughed and said, “You pretend you didn’t see it.”
My heart stopped.
Oh God.
I crouched in the hallway like my legs had failed.
Ryan grabbed me.
“What?”
I looked at him.
“She found something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
I called for Lily.
She came from the kitchen.
“Mommy?”
I tried to keep my voice normal.
“Remember when you were at Grandma’s house a few weeks ago?”
She immediately became still.
“Yes.”
“Did you find something?”
Her eyes moved toward Ryan.
Then back to me.
“We don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to.”
She hugged her unicorn.
“I found the lady.”
The room went silent.
Ryan crouched.
“What lady?”
Lily looked confused.
“The lady in the picture.”
“What picture?”
“In Grandma’s basement.”
My heart hammered.
“What was the lady doing?”
Lily’s small face tightened.
“She was crying.”
Ryan looked at me.
I forced myself not to ask too much.
“Did Grandma see you looking at it?”
Lily nodded.
“What happened?”
“She got mad.”
“What did she do?”
“She took it away.”
Lily lowered her voice.
“Then she put me in the dark room.”
Ryan stood so abruptly I grabbed his hand.
Lily continued,
“She said the lady was bad.”
I swallowed.
“Did she say the lady’s name?”
Lily thought.
Then nodded.
“What was it?”
May you like
Her answer came quietly.
“Anna.”
