Chapter 3 - the woman who had died twice)
Detective Elena Ruiz did not believe in coincidences.
David learned that within ten minutes of meeting her.
She was in her early forties, calm, compact, and observant in a way that made people feel as though they had accidentally left their thoughts visible.
Two patrol officers separated Laura from David and Lily.
A paramedic examined Lily's forehead and wrists.
Laura immediately asked for an attorney.
She also immediately denied tying Lily to anything.
Ruiz noticed both choices.
"You don't have to explain anything right now," she told David. "Just start with what you personally saw."
David did.
He showed her the ropes.
The hidden cabinet.
The teacher's letter.
The photograph.
The brass key.
Ruiz wore gloves before touching any of them.
When she saw the date on Claire's photograph, she looked at David.
"Your first wife died May twenty-ninth?"
"That's what I was told."
"Who identified her?"
"No one."
"Who handled the legal declaration?"
David looked toward the dining room, where another officer sat with Laura.
"She did."
Ruiz followed his gaze.
"Why?"
"Laura was Claire's half sister. I wasn't functioning very well."
"Understandable."
"No. It isn't."
Ruiz's voice softened slightly.
"Grief isn't evidence of negligence, Mr. Mercer."
David almost answered.
Then he saw Lily watching him.
He stopped.
The paramedic finished cleaning the edge of her forehead bandage.
"She's okay to stay here physically," he said. "But I'd recommend a pediatric examination tonight."
David nodded.
Laura's voice suddenly rose from the dining room.
"I want to leave."
Ruiz turned.
The patrol officer shook his head.
Ruiz walked over.
David could not hear everything.
He heard Laura mention lawyers.
He heard the officer mention child endangerment.
Then Laura looked directly at David.
"If you let them arrest me, Claire stays dead."
Ruiz looked back.
David stood.
"What does that mean?"
Laura said nothing else.
Ruiz instructed the officer to continue.
Laura was eventually taken outside.
Lily watched through the window as her stepmother was placed into a patrol car.
She did not look relieved.
She looked afraid.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"She's going to come back."
David knelt beside her.
"Not tonight."
"You don't know that."
The words hurt because they were true.
Ruiz returned to the cabinet.
"We need to catalog everything."
David nodded.
Inside were three folders.
A black cell phone.
Two flash drives.
An old photograph of Claire and Laura as teenagers.
A printed map.
And a brown notebook.
The first folder contained copies of Claire's life insurance paperwork.
The second contained bank statements.
The third was sealed in transparent plastic.
Claire's name was written across the front.
Ruiz carefully opened it.
Inside was a copy of Claire's death certificate.
David had seen the original.
He remembered almost none of it.
Ruiz read silently.
Then her eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"The physician who signed the supporting medical declaration was Dr. Simon Reed."
"Should that mean something?"
"Maybe."
Ruiz pulled out her phone and searched.
She turned the screen toward him.
Dr. Simon Reed.
Havenridge Behavioral and Recovery Center.
David stared at the photograph of a gray-haired doctor.
"I've never met him."
"Your wife?"
"Claire?"
"Either one."
"I don't know."
Ruiz kept searching.
"Havenridge is a private rehabilitation facility north of the city."
David remembered the photograph.
Claire standing beside a gray building.
"Could that be Havenridge?"
"Maybe."
The black phone in the cabinet suddenly vibrated.
Everyone froze.
It should not have worked.
It looked old enough to have been forgotten for years.
The screen lit up.
One message.
UNKNOWN CALLER.
Ruiz grabbed the phone before David could touch it.
The device had no passcode.
The text read:
You opened the cabinet.
David felt cold.
Another message appeared.
Do not go to Room 17.
Ruiz immediately began photographing the screen.
A third message arrived.
If you want Lily safe, burn Claire's folder.
David turned toward his daughter.
Lily was sitting on the sofa with a blanket around her shoulders.
She had not seen the messages.
Ruiz looked at David.
"Who knew the cabinet was open?"
"Laura."
"Anyone else?"
"No."
"Then either Laura has someone helping her, or someone has been watching this house."
David remembered the phone Laura kicked beneath the cabinet.
"Lily's phone."
He retrieved it.
The screen was cracked.
There were twelve missed calls from Rachel Harper, the teacher.
The most recent call had come seven minutes earlier.
David called back.
Rachel answered immediately.
"Mr. Mercer?"
"This is David."
"Oh, thank God."
"What happened?"
There was traffic behind her.
She sounded like she was driving.
"I've been trying to reach Lily. I filed the report this afternoon and then someone came to the school asking for the envelope."
Ruiz moved closer.
"Who?"
"A man."
"Did he give a name?"
"No. He said he was from your attorney's office."
David did not have an attorney.
Rachel continued.
"When I refused, he showed me a photograph."
"What photograph?"
There was a pause.
"It was Claire."
David gripped the phone.
"Claire?"
"Yes."
"An old photograph?"
"No."
Rachel's voice lowered.
"Mr. Mercer, the picture was taken today."
David stopped breathing.
Ruiz took the phone from him.
"This is Detective Elena Ruiz. Ms. Harper, I need you to pull over somewhere safe."
Rachel obeyed.
Ruiz asked her to describe the picture.
Claire appeared thinner.
Her hair was shorter.
She was wearing a pale green sweater.
Behind her was a white wall and a narrow window.
Rachel said there was one more thing.
A newspaper was visible on the table.
Today's date could be read across the top.
David sat down.
Claire had not just been alive seventeen days after her death.
If the photograph was genuine, she was alive now.
Somewhere.
Ruiz ended the call and turned toward the evidence.
David looked at the key.
17.
For the first time since finding Lily beside the fireplace, something stronger than fear moved through him.
Hope.
Terrible, dangerous hope.
Ruiz must have seen it.
"Do not assume the photograph is genuine yet."
"I know."
"But if it is..."
"I know."
Ruiz looked at the printed map from the cabinet.
She unfolded it across the coffee table.
A red circle had been drawn around a rural road north of the city.
At the bottom, Claire had written two words.
Merritt House.
Ruiz searched the address.
Her expression changed.
"What?"
She turned the phone.
An abandoned recovery lodge stood at the address.
It had once been owned by Havenridge.
David looked at the floor plan displayed online.
Rooms numbered 1 through 24.
His eyes found 17.
Ruiz reached for her coat.
"We're going."
Lily suddenly stood.
"No."
David turned.
His daughter was staring at the map.
"What's wrong?"
"I've seen that place."
David's heart stopped.
"When?"
May you like
Lily pointed toward the photograph of Merritt House.
"Laura took me there last month."
