Chapter 7 - THE SECOND VOICE
The second voice belonged to a woman.
Ethan listened to the recording the next morning at the police station.
Vivian's voice came first.
“Say it again.”
Lily's tiny voice answered.
“Daddy grabbed me.”
“Where?”
“My arm.”
“Hard?”
Silence.
Vivian snapped her fingers.
“Lily.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, hard.”
Ethan took off the headphones.
“I can't.”
Officer Ramirez sat across the table.
“We can stop.”
“No.”
Ethan put them back on.
The recording continued.
A door opened.
Another woman spoke.
“Vivian, what are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“That doesn't sound like nothing.”
“Stay out of it, Brooke.”
Ethan looked at Ramirez.
“Brooke.”
“You know her?”
“Vivian's friend.”
“Last name?”
“Mercer. I think.”
The recording continued.
Brooke's voice sounded nervous.
“You told me you were only trying to get rid of the kid.”
Vivian hissed, “Not like that.”
“Then what is this?”
“I'm making Ethan see what she's really like.”
“She's four!”
“You don't live here.”
“No, and thank God.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“I'm leaving.”
“If you tell him anything—”
“What? You'll lock me in your creepy little basement room too?”
A door slammed.
The audio ended.
Ethan ripped off the headphones.
“Find her.”
“We already are.”
Brooke Mercer was located before noon.
She walked into the station voluntarily.
Ethan saw her through the glass wall.
She looked exhausted.
Ramirez wouldn't let Ethan join the interview, but two hours later he came out.
“She confirms the voice is hers.”
“And?”
“She says Vivian had complained about Lily for months.”
“What kind of complaints?”
“That Lily was ruining her relationship with you.”
Ethan looked down.
Ramirez continued.
“Brooke says Vivian wanted you to send Lily to live with your mother.”
“My mother lives in Arizona.”
“We know.”
“She actually said that?”
“Repeatedly.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
His mother had offered to keep Lily for a summer after Claire died.
Vivian had brought it up several times.
Maybe Lily would love Arizona.
Maybe a change would help.
Maybe Ethan needed time to “rebuild his life.”
He had always said no.
But not firmly enough.
Not angrily enough.
Ramirez put a sheet of paper on the table.
“Brooke gave us screenshots.”
Texts.
Vivian: I can't breathe in that house with her.
Brooke: She's a child.
Vivian: She's Claire's ghost with pigtails.
Ethan stopped reading.
That sentence hurt more than he expected.
Claire's ghost with pigtails.
Ramirez tapped another message.
Vivian: Once Ethan sees she's unstable, he'll send her away.
Brooke: And if he doesn't?
Vivian: Then I'll make sure he has no choice.
Ethan's hands curled into fists.
“She's done.”
Ramirez gave him a measured look.
“The evidence is strong.”
“Strong?”
“Don't confuse strong evidence with a finished case.”
Ethan hated that answer.
“What else do you need?”
“Context. Dates. Medical records. School statements.”
“She's on video.”
“She will have a lawyer.”
“She threatened a four-year-old with a chain.”
“And her lawyer will call it poor judgment, not a pattern, unless we prove the pattern.”
Ethan stood.
“I'll prove it.”
Ramirez's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His eyes shifted toward Ethan.
“What?”
Ramirez ended the call.
“Your daughter's preschool just contacted us.”
Ethan's heart sank.
“Why?”
“They have security footage too.”
“Of Vivian?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“What happened?”
Ramirez took a breath.
“Vivian signed Lily out early.”
“So?”
“She wasn't authorized to take her that day.”
Ethan frowned.
“That makes no sense. Vivian was on the pickup list.”
“Not according to the school.”
“Then how did she get Lily?”
Ramirez turned the screen toward him.
“Because someone sent an email from your account.”
Ethan stared at the message.
His name.
His email address.
His digital signature.
He had never written it.
And whatever happened after Vivian picked Lily up that afternoon had lasted four hours.
May you like
Four hours nobody could account for.
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