Chapter 9 - Continuity)
Diane Bennett called it Continuity because murder would have looked suspicious in a file name.
Detective Alvarez found the encrypted folder exactly where Daniel said it would be.
Inside an offline Bennett server.
The folder held photographs, schedules, medical information, and hypothetical scenarios.
Claire could barely read them.
Vehicle malfunction.
Medication interaction.
Residential fall.
Street robbery.
Accidental fire.
Each scenario included notes about Erin's routines.
Her building.
Her vehicle.
Her doctors.
Her physical limitations.
The purpose was clear.
If Erin remembered enough to threaten Diane, her death should resemble an accident.
Claire walked out before reaching the final page.
This time Erin followed.
"You don't need to protect me from it," Erin said.
"I'm protecting myself."
They sat in an empty courthouse corridor after giving further statements.
Claire leaned her head against the wall.
"I married into this."
"You didn't know."
"I brought him into our family."
"You didn't know."
"I told him everything about you."
"You didn't know."
Claire turned.
"Stop saying that."
Erin stared back.
"Why?"
"Because I should have."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"Exactly."
Claire looked away.
Erin rolled closer.
"When Daniel asked questions, did they sound suspicious?"
"No."
"When he helped me transfer into that stupid boat at the lake, did he look like someone who was tracking whether I remembered an attempted murder?"
"No."
"When Diane insulted Mom's cooking, did you think she had bribed a police lieutenant?"
Despite everything, Claire laughed.
Erin smiled faintly.
"You didn't know."
Claire finally nodded.
"No."
"Good."
They sat quietly.
Then Claire asked, "Why did you investigate alone for so long?"
Erin's smile disappeared.
"Because I didn't want the attack to become the center of your life too."
"It already was."
"No. It was part of your life. There's a difference."
Claire thought about that.
Erin had built walls around her trauma not only to protect herself.
She had tried to protect everyone else.
"Do you remember more now?" Claire asked.
"A little."
"Because of Diane?"
"Because of the tape."
"What?"
Erin looked at her hands.
"I remember the voice saying, Leave her."
Claire waited.
"Then another voice."
"Vale?"
"I think so."
"What did he say?"
Erin swallowed.
"He said, She saw you."
Claire felt cold.
"And Diane?"
"She said, Then you should have hit her harder."
Claire closed her eyes.
Erin inhaled slowly.
"But there's something else."
"What?"
"I remember headlights."
"Robert?"
"Maybe."
"No. He came later according to the confession."
"I know."
Claire opened her eyes.
"You think someone else was there?"
Erin nodded.
"Another car."
"Did Robert mention one?"
"No."
Marcus joined them moments later.
Erin explained.
He listened carefully.
"Memory after trauma can return in fragments," he said. "But we shouldn't assume every detail is exact."
"I know."
"Do you remember the vehicle?"
"Dark."
"Large?"
"Maybe."
"Driver?"
"No."
Claire thought of Daniel.
Twenty-six years old.
Working for the company.
Receiving project emails.
"What car did Daniel drive nine years ago?"
Marcus looked at her.
"We can find out."
It took less than an hour.
A black Range Rover registered to Daniel Bennett.
Claire stared at the photograph.
Erin stared longer.
"No."
Claire's heart sank.
"You recognize it?"
"I don't know."
"Erin."
"I said I don't know."
Marcus crouched beside her.
"That's the right answer if you're uncertain."
Erin nodded.
Claire felt a strange mixture of relief and dread.
Daniel had admitted plenty.
But had he been at the roadside too?
Alvarez questioned him.
Daniel denied it.
He said he had been in Charlottesville that night.
Records initially seemed to support him.
A hotel receipt.
A restaurant charge.
But phone data from nine years earlier was limited.
Then Thomas remembered something.
"Daniel came home early."
Claire turned.
"What?"
"He was supposed to be in Charlottesville for two nights. He came back after one."
"When?"
"The night Erin was attacked."
Daniel's alibi began to fracture.
A hotel employee from nine years earlier could not be expected to remember him.
Card transactions proved only that his card had been used.
Marcus searched toll records.
Too old.
Traffic cameras.
Gone.
Then a Northstar expense report surfaced.
Fuel purchase.
11:07 p.m.
Bellwood.
Daniel Bennett's company card.
Claire felt numb.
He had been there.
When confronted, Daniel asked for his attorney.
Then changed his story.
He had gone to Bellwood after his mother called him.
Claire stood behind the observation glass as Alvarez questioned him.
Daniel said he found Diane and Vale beside Erin's damaged car.
Erin was unconscious.
"Did you call 911?" Alvarez asked.
"No."
"Why?"
"My mother said someone already had."
"Had they?"
"I don't know."
"What did you do?"
"I told Vale to leave."
"And then?"
"My mother ordered me into my car."
"You left Erin Carter on the ground?"
Daniel looked down.
"Yes."
Claire closed her eyes.
There was the final death of whatever remained between them.
Not because he was young.
Not because Diane manipulated him.
Not because Robert controlled the family.
Daniel had been twenty-six.
Old enough to see an injured woman beside a road.
Old enough to own a phone.
Old enough to choose.
He chose himself.
Alvarez continued.
"Why didn't you tell police later?"
"I was afraid."
"For nine years?"
"Yes."
"Then you married her sister."
Daniel cried.
Claire watched without feeling sorry for him.
"What were you thinking?" Alvarez asked.
Daniel covered his face.
"I thought if Claire loved me enough, maybe I could become someone who hadn't done it."
Claire whispered through the glass.
"You don't become innocent by being loved."
Erin heard her.
She took Claire's hand.
Inside the interview room, Alvarez asked one final question.
"Who called emergency services for Erin?"
Daniel lowered his hands.
"I don't know."
Alvarez leaned forward.
"Someone did. A truck driver found her almost forty minutes later, but dispatch records show an anonymous call twenty-two minutes before that. The caller disconnected before giving a name."
Daniel looked confused.
"It wasn't me."
"Your mother?"
"No."
"Vale?"
"No."
"Robert?"
"He wasn't there yet."
Claire looked at Erin.
Another person.
Another witness.
Someone had seen Erin.
May you like
Someone had called for help.
And somewhere in a nine-year-old dispatch archive was a voice nobody had ever identified.
