Chapter 4 - The Price of Keeping Her Alive
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Rachel sat in a dim room.
Her green jacket was gone.
A bruise darkened one side of her forehead.
Behind her was a gray metal door.
There was no visible window.
I stared at the photograph until the edges blurred.
"Who sent this?"
Eliam shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not."
I turned toward him.
"You've lied to me for nine years."
His shoulders dropped.
"I know."
"You helped my father fake my sister's death?"
"No."
"Then explain the court statement."
Eliam looked sharply at me.
"You found the petition?"
"Daniel Price did."
His expression changed.
"Did he file anything?"
"He's trying to get the records."
Eliam swore under his breath.
"We have to stop him from contacting your father."
"Why?"
"Because your father has people watching that case."
I felt anger rising through the fear.
"Then you better start talking."
Eliam looked toward the ceiling.
"The study," he said quietly. "Don't go in there."
My skin prickled.
"What?"
"There's a device in the wall outlet beside my desk. I found it yesterday."
"Who put it there?"
"I don't know for certain."
I stared at him.
"You've known our home might be bugged and you didn't tell me?"
"I was trying to figure out whether telling you would put you in more danger."
"Stop deciding what I can handle!"
He flinched.
Good.
I wanted him to feel a fraction of what I was feeling.
He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote an address on the back of an envelope.
Then he said, in a deliberately ordinary voice, "I need to pick up something from the pharmacy."
I understood.
Or at least I understood enough.
We left separately.
He drove first.
I followed ten minutes later.
The address led to a small public park beside a community college.
Eliam was sitting at a picnic table when I arrived.
There were families walking dogs nearby.
A maintenance worker was emptying trash cans.
Ordinary life continued around us.
I sat across from him.
"Start with Rachel."
He rubbed his hands together.
"Nine years ago, Rachel came to me because she found irregularities in one of your father's companies."
"Why you?"
"I worked with the insurance carrier handling several Bennett Development properties."
I stared.
"You told me you met Dad through me."
"I did meet him socially through you. But our companies had crossed paths before."
"Another convenient omission."
He accepted that without argument.
"Rachel believed your father was using construction projects to hide payments between companies. She asked me to explain some insurance records."
"And?"
"At first I thought she'd misunderstood them."
"That's what everyone thought."
"Then she showed me a list of properties where insurance claims had been filed after suspicious fires."
A chill moved through me.
"Fires?"
"Three warehouses. Two apartment buildings. A vacant factory."
"Accidents?"
"That's what the paperwork said."
He leaned forward.
"But Rachel found evidence that some buildings were intentionally damaged before redevelopment deals went through."
I pictured my father at charity banquets, shaking hands with city officials.
"People could have died."
"They did."
My stomach tightened.
"How many?"
"At least two workers. Possibly more."
I covered my mouth.
"Rachel wanted to go to the police."
"She did go to the police."
I looked up.
"Then why wasn't he arrested?"
"Because she brought her evidence to a detective who had been taking money from your father."
I felt physically cold.
"Who?"
"Detective Paul Voss. He's retired now."
Eliam paused.
"Two days later, someone broke into Rachel's apartment."
I remembered.
Dad had told me she'd been robbed because she left her windows unlocked.
"She called me that night," Eliam continued. "She was terrified. She said she'd found records proving an employee had been killed deliberately after threatening to testify."
"Who was the employee?"
"His name was Samuel Ortiz. He was a safety inspector."
"Did you believe her?"
"By then? Yes."
He swallowed.
"I arranged for her to meet a lawyer who specialized in whistleblower cases. We were supposed to leave town the morning her car disappeared."
I stared at him.
"What happened?"
"She never showed up. Then I heard about the quarry."
His voice grew rough.
"I thought she'd been murdered."
"But the court statement..."
"Eleven days later, Rachel contacted me through an attorney. She was alive. She'd escaped after somebody forced her car off the road, and she needed protection."
"Protection from my father."
"Yes."
I looked away.
The trees were beginning to turn yellow.
Children were laughing near the swings.
My world was falling apart in a place where other people were having pleasant afternoons.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Eliam closed his eyes.
"Rachel begged me not to."
"Why?"
"Because she thought your father could use you to find her."
I stared.
"She didn't trust me?"
"She loved you. But she knew he'd spent years convincing you she was unstable."
"That doesn't mean I would have betrayed her."
"No," he said softly. "But it meant you might have called him because you were worried. And one phone call could have exposed where she was."
I wanted to deny it.
Then I remembered all the times I'd called Dad after fighting with Rachel.
Every detail.
Every complaint.
Every accusation.
I'd given him information because I thought families were supposed to talk.
Eliam reached across the table.
I pulled my hand away.
"That explains why she hid," I said. "It doesn't explain why you did."
He stared at the tabletop.
"Because I promised her."
"And you decided that promise mattered more than our marriage?"
"I told myself it was temporary."
"Nine years isn't temporary."
"I know."
His voice broke.
"I know."
I waited.
He wiped his eyes.
"Rachel moved several times. She changed her name. She worked with advocacy groups because they understood how to protect people who were escaping dangerous situations."
"And my father?"
"He found her once. Eight years ago. That's the picture you saw."
My breath caught.
"You knew about that?"
"She told me afterward. He offered her money to disappear permanently. She refused. A week later, someone broke into the shelter where she was staying."
I looked toward the parking lot.
"Then why did she come back now?"
Eliam took a folded photograph from his wallet.
It showed a small boy standing beside Rachel in front of a school.
Brown hair.
A missing front tooth.
A dinosaur backpack.
"His name is Oliver," Eliam said.
I stared at the child.
"Who is he?"
"Rachel's son."
I looked up.
"She has a child?"
"He's seven."
The words struck harder than I expected.
Seven years.
Seven birthdays.
Seven Christmases.
My sister had become a mother while I was lighting candles beneath her photograph.
I touched the picture.
"Does he know about me?"
Eliam nodded.
"She told him he has an aunt who loves sunflowers."
I started crying.
I couldn't stop.
Eliam sat silently while the tears came.
Then he spoke.
"Two weeks ago, Oliver disappeared from a school field trip."
My head snapped up.
"What?"
"Rachel received a message saying she'd get him back if she handed over the original evidence against your father."
My stomach lurched.
"And did she?"
"She doesn't have all of it anymore."
"Where is it?"
Eliam looked at me.
"That's why she contacted me."
I waited.
"Rachel believes she hid the most important piece of evidence in your mother's belongings before she vanished."
I frowned.
"My mother died when I was nineteen."
"Yes."
"Rachel was sixteen."
"I know."
"What does Mom have to do with any of this?"
Eliam hesitated.
"Your mother found out what your father was doing long before Rachel did."
The park seemed to grow quiet.
I remembered my mother's final year.
The arguments behind closed doors.
The sleepless nights.
The way she sometimes watched Dad with an expression I hadn't understood.
"Mom died of a heart attack," I whispered.
Eliam didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "That's what your father told everyone."
My mouth went dry.
"What are you saying?"
He looked directly at me.
"Your mother's death was never properly investigated."
Before I could respond, a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot.
A uniformed officer got out.
He approached our table.
"Eliam Carter?"
Eliam stood slowly.
"Yes."
The officer looked at me.
"Are you his wife?"
I nodded.
"I'm afraid I need both of you to come with me."
"Why?" I asked.
The officer's expression was grim.
"Because a woman was found unconscious behind Harbor House this afternoon."
My chest tightened.
"Rachel?"
He glanced down at his notepad.
"The woman was carrying identification in the name Rebecca Hale."
I stood so quickly the bench scraped against the ground.
"Is she alive?"
The officer hesitated.
Then said, "We don't know yet."
He reached into his pocket and removed a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a small silver necklace.
A crescent moon.
I recognized it immediately.
It had belonged to my mother.
Rachel had worn it the day she disappeared.
The officer looked at me.
"Does this necklace mean anything to you?"
I nodded.
Then he turned the bag over.
A fresh strip of white tape had been attached to the clasp.
May you like
Written on it were four words.
ASK YOUR FATHER WHY.
