Chapter 4 - THE VIDEO IN THE BASEMENT
Detective Mercer stopped at the doorway.
“When was the video recorded?”
Emily closed her eyes.
“I don't know.”
“Did you see a date?”
“No. The filename was just numbers.”
“What happened in the recording?”
My daughter swallowed hard.
“Claire was sitting in a chair. She was crying. Someone kept asking her where she'd hidden the original documents.”
“Could you identify the person asking questions?”
“Not from the video.”
“Was Jason visible?”
Emily hesitated.
“Only at the end.”
Mercer returned to his chair.
“Tell me what you saw.”
Emily stared at the blanket.
“Claire said she didn't have the documents anymore. Then Jason walked into the room.”
“What did he do?”
“He leaned down beside her and said something.”
“What?”
Emily's voice dropped.
“He said, ‘You should have accepted my mother's offer.’”
I felt a chill move through me.
Mercer remained motionless.
“Anything else?”
“The recording ended.”
He asked whether Emily had noticed any other identifying details.
A window.
A door.
Furniture.
Anything that might help establish the location.
She remembered exposed brick walls, a metal shelving unit, and a large green electrical panel.
Then she remembered something else.
“A clock.”
“What kind?”
“An old wooden clock. It had a broken glass face.”
Mercer's expression changed.
“Colonel Hart, I need to make a call.”
He stepped into the hallway.
I remained beside Emily.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Finally, she looked at me.
“Are you disappointed in me?”
The question struck harder than anything Evelyn had said.
“Why would I be disappointed?”
“Because I stayed.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Emily, listen carefully.”
She looked at me.
“You trusted someone you loved. He chose to abuse that trust. Those are not the same thing.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“I thought I could fix it.”
“I know.”
“I thought if I could just make him happy—”
“Sweetheart.”
I held her hands.
“You were never responsible for making him behave like a decent human being.”
She began crying again.
I stayed with her until the trembling eased.
Then my phone vibrated.
An unfamiliar number appeared.
I answered.
“Colonel Hart?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Sarah Whitmore.”
I looked toward the hallway.
“Do I know you?”
“No, ma'am.”
Her voice shook.
“But I believe your daughter knows what happened to my sister.”
I stood slowly.
“Claire Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get my number?”
“Detective Mercer called me.”
I glanced toward the door.
“He told me there might be new information.”
Sarah inhaled shakily.
“Colonel, I've been waiting four years for someone to tell me the truth.”
I looked at Emily.
She was watching me.
“I can't promise what we'll find,” I told Sarah.
“I understand.”
“But I can promise that my daughter will not be silenced.”
Sarah was quiet.
Then she whispered:
“That's what Claire tried to do.”
“What?”
“Tell the truth.”
May you like
I heard her begin to cry.
“And that's why they took her.”
