Chapter 6
I stared at the ring.
“You’re telling me Rachel’s first husband disappeared?”
Carol nodded.
“Did you report it?”
“His family did.”
“And the police?”
“They investigated.”
“Was Rachel a suspect?”
Carol’s lips trembled.
“Yes.”
The kitchen suddenly felt too small.
I stepped away from the table.
“What did she tell them?”
“That Eric left.”
“Did you believe her?”
Carol didn’t answer.
“Carol.”
“At the time, yes.”
“At the time?”
She stared at the papers.
“A week after he disappeared, Rachel came here at three in the morning.”
I waited.
“She was soaked.”
“From rain?”
“Yes. There had been a storm.”
“What happened?”
“She said her car broke down.”
“Where?”
“Near Alum Creek.”
I knew the area.
Reservoir.
Back roads.
Wooded sections.
My stomach tightened.
“What did she do?”
“She showered here.”
“And?”
“I found mud on her shoes.”
I stared at Carol.
“That means nothing.”
“I know.”
“Did police know?”
“I told them.”
“What happened?”
“They searched.”
“And found nothing?”
“Nothing connected to Eric.”
I let out a breath.
“So why are you telling me this?”
“Because I found something in Rachel’s coat pocket the next morning.”
Carol reached into the manila envelope.
She removed a folded piece of paper.
It was old.
The creases nearly torn through.
She slid it toward me.
I unfolded it.
A handwritten note.
Rachel—
I know about the cards and the money. I spoke with the bank. I’m filing a police report tomorrow morning. Do not come to the house.
Eric
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Carol.
“Why do you have this?”
“I took it from her coat.”
“Why?”
“I was scared.”
“You thought Rachel might have done something to him?”
Carol began crying.
“I didn’t know what to think.”
“Did you give this to police?”
“No.”
I slammed my hand on the table.
“Why not?”
“She was my daughter!”
“And Eric was somebody’s son!”
Carol sobbed.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
I pushed away from the table.
“You protected her.”
“I was afraid.”
“You protected her.”
“She said she had gone to see him.”
I turned.
“What?”
Carol covered her mouth for a second.
“She admitted they argued that night.”
My pulse hammered.
“What happened?”
“She said Eric walked away.”
“Where?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“And you did nothing?”
“I confronted her.”
“What did she say?”
“That if I loved her, I would stop asking questions.”
I stared at her.
Suddenly I remembered Rachel using almost the same language with me.
If you ever loved me…
My skin crawled.
“Did Eric ever contact anyone again?”
“No.”
“Was his body found?”
“No.”
“Then he could be alive.”
“Yes.”
“Did police ever charge Rachel?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not accusing her of murder.”
“I didn't say you should.”
“You brought me a missing husband’s wedding ring and a note about financial fraud.”
“I’m telling you because you need to be careful.”
I almost laughed.
“Careful?”
Carol nodded.
“Don’t confront her alone.”
A chill moved through me.
“Do you think your daughter would hurt me?”
Carol stared at the table.
That was answer enough.
I grabbed my coat.
She stood.
“Where are you going?”
“To my mother.”
“Not home?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Why does Rachel think her father is alive?”
Carol frowned.
“What?”
“She told me tonight that he contacted her three years ago.”
Carol stared at me.
“Her father died when she was nineteen.”
“I know.”
“She knows.”
“She invented a story about him being alive because she was hiding Marcus.”
“Who is Marcus?”
“The man she had an affair with.”
Carol closed her eyes.
“Oh, Rachel.”
I watched her.
“You really didn’t know?”
“No.”
“Did she cheat on Eric with Marcus too?”
“No. Different man.”
Of course.
I walked to the door.
Carol called my name.
I turned.
She looked terrified.
“There is one more thing.”
I almost told her I didn’t want to hear it.
But that was no longer an option.
“What?”
“After Eric disappeared, Rachel found out she was pregnant.”
My stomach dropped.
“She told me she terminated the pregnancy because she didn't know if the baby was Eric’s or the other man’s.”
History.
Again.
The exact same history.
I felt physically sick.
“Does she repeat everything?”
Carol whispered, “I think she does.”
I drove to my mother’s apartment in silence.
The sky had started turning gray by the time I arrived.
Mom opened the door wearing an old robe.
She looked shocked.
“Daniel?”
Then she saw my face.
“What happened?”
I walked inside.
The second the door closed, I started crying.
Not quiet tears.
Not controlled tears.
I broke.
My mother wrapped both arms around me.
I was thirty-eight years old, but for several minutes I was nine again.
Dad had disappeared.
Mom was holding me in a kitchen that smelled like cheap coffee.
Telling me we would survive.
That was what she did now.
No questions.
No judgment.
Just held me.
When I finally sat down, she made coffee.
Her hands trembled.
“Is this about the rent?”
“Yes.”
She sat across from me.
I told her enough.
Not everything.
Not Eric.
Not yet.
But enough.
Rachel had redirected the rent.
The money had gone into her account.
She had debt.
She had taken loans.
She had cheated.
Mom listened silently.
When I finished, she looked devastated.
“Daniel, I’m so sorry.”
I almost laughed.
“You’re apologizing?”
“I should have told you.”
My body tensed.
“Told me what?”
Mom looked down.
A terrible feeling settled in my stomach.
“Rachel came here in June.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She asked me to stop taking money from you.”
My heart began pounding.
“You never said anything.”
“I didn’t want to cause trouble.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said you two were trying to have a baby.”
I frowned.
“We weren’t.”
Mom looked surprised.
“She said fertility treatment was expensive.”
My jaw tightened.
“She told me you had spent your savings helping me.”
I slowly sat back.
“What else?”
“She offered me money.”
“How much?”
“Three thousand.”
I stared at her.
“The missing rent.”
“Maybe.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she said there was a condition.”
“What condition?”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“She wanted me to move.”
“Where?”
“Indiana.”
I blinked.
“Why?”
“She said you needed distance from me.”
I stood.
“Mom.”
“I told her no.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
“She begged me not to.”
“Why would you believe her?”
“Because I was embarrassed.”
I looked at her.
She wiped her eyes.
“She made me feel like I was ruining your marriage.”
“Mom.”
“She said you resented supporting me but were too guilty to admit it.”
My stomach twisted.
“That is a lie.”
“I know that now.”
“You should have known then.”
“I wanted to.”
She cried quietly.
“But she knew exactly what to say.”
I sat beside her.
“She told me you complained about me constantly.”
“No.”
“She said every time I called, you rolled your eyes.”
“No.”
“She said you told her you wished I would learn to handle my own problems.”
“Never.”
Mom looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I took her hand.
“No. I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For bringing her into your life.”
“Daniel, you didn't know.”
I closed my eyes.
No.
I didn’t.
But somebody did.
Carol knew.
And she stayed silent.
We sat there until sunrise.
At seven-thirty, I called my boss and told him I wouldn’t be in.
At eight, I called Mom’s landlord.
I paid the overdue balance directly.
Four months.
Late fees.
Everything.
It hurt financially, but at least she was safe.
At eight-forty, I changed every password I could think of.
Bank.
Email.
Credit cards.
Retirement.
Investment accounts.
At nine, I froze my credit.
At nine-fifteen, I called an attorney.
At ten, my phone started exploding.
Rachel.
Twenty-three missed calls.
Sixteen texts.
Please come home.
We can fix this.
I love you.
Don’t listen to my mother.
She is trying to destroy me.
Marcus lied.
Jason will repay everything.
I know I made mistakes.
Please don't throw away eight years.
Then one message made me stop.
I need to tell you what really happened to Eric.
I stared at it.
Another arrived.
My mother never knew the whole story.
Then:
He didn’t disappear.
My hands went cold.
I typed one sentence.
Where is he?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then Rachel replied.
He’s alive.
I didn’t answer.
May you like
A second message came.
And he’s in Columbus.
