Chapter 4: The Police Were Coming for Someone Else
The siren grew louder, washing blue and red light across the front windows.
Sophie stood halfway down the staircase, barefoot, clutching her rabbit so tightly that its remaining ear disappeared beneath her fingers.
Daniel looked at the door.
Sylvia looked at Daniel.
And I looked at the photograph in my hand, at Karen's face beneath the fluorescent hospital lights, because I could no longer pretend that the woman my husband had described to me was the same woman in that picture.
“Daddy?”” Sophie whispered again.
“Are they taking Mommy away?””
Daniel started toward the stairs.
“No, sweetheart. Nobody's taking anyone away.””
“Then why did you say she was dead?””
He stopped.
For once, my husband had no ready answer.
Sylvia slipped her phone from her handbag and checked the screen.
“They're here,” she said.
Daniel turned on her.
“You called them?””
“I told you someone was asking questions about the March report. You chose to ignore me.””
“You had no right to come here.””
“And you had no right to sign those papers.””
The sirens stopped outside our house.
A car door slammed.
Then another.
I heard footsteps on the front path, followed by three firm knocks.
Sophie flinched.
I climbed the stairs and wrapped my arm around her shoulders.
“Come with me, sweetheart.””
She shook her head.
“I want to know where Mommy is.””
“I know.””
“Is she in a hospital?””
I swallowed.
“I don't know yet.””
“Is she hurt?””
“I don't know that either.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Everybody knows something except me.””
There was no answer I could give her that would make the world fair again.
I led her into the living room, where she sat on the sofa with her knees tucked beneath her. I brought her a blanket and placed the rabbit in her lap.
Then I returned to the front door.
Two police officers stood on the porch. One was a tall woman with her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. The other was a broad-shouldered man carrying a leather folder.
“Good evening,” the woman said.
“I'm Detective Harris. This is Officer Bennett. We need to speak with Daniel Mercer.””
Daniel stepped forward.
“I'm Daniel.””
Detective Harris glanced past him at Sylvia.
“And you are?””
“Sylvia Cole.””
The detective's expression changed slightly.
“Ms. Cole, we were hoping to speak with you as well.””
Sylvia gave a short, bitter laugh.
“Of course you were.””
Daniel folded his arms.
“What's this about?””
Detective Harris opened her folder.
“We received information concerning a missing-person investigation from March, along with allegations of evidence tampering and possible unlawful confinement.””
Daniel's face hardened.
“Those allegations are ridiculous.””
“That's something we'll discuss inside.””
She looked at me.
“Mrs. Mercer, would you mind taking us somewhere we can speak privately?””
I nodded.
The word Mrs. felt strange in my ears.
I'd been married for less than a day, and already I was wondering whether I had made the worst mistake of my life.
We gathered in the dining room. Detective Harris asked Daniel to sit at one end of the table and Sylvia to sit at the other.
I remained standing.
“Before we begin,” I said, “I need to know whether my stepdaughter is in danger.””
Detective Harris looked directly at me.
“Has anyone threatened the child tonight?””
“No.””
“Has anyone attempted to remove her from the home?””
“No.””
“Then, based on what we know at this moment, I have no reason to believe she is in immediate danger from anyone here. But I would like to speak with her separately, with your permission.””
“Of course.””
Daniel pushed his chair back.
“She doesn't need to be questioned. She's eight years old.””
Detective Harris didn't raise her voice.
“Mr. Mercer, we routinely speak with children who may have information relevant to an investigation. We'll do so in an age-appropriate way.””
“She has been through enough.””
“Then it should be easy for you to let us make sure she's safe.””
Daniel sat down again.
I noticed his right hand was shaking.
Detective Harris placed a copy of a document on the table.
“Mr. Mercer, do you recognize this signature?””
He looked at it.
“Yes.””
“Is it yours?””
“Yes.””
“What does this document authorize?””
He stared at the page.
“It's a transfer authorization.””
“For whom?””
He said nothing.
Detective Harris waited.
Finally, Daniel answered.
“Karen.””
“And where was she being transferred?””
“A medical facility.””
“Which one?””
“I don't remember.””
Sylvia leaned forward.
“That's convenient.””
Daniel slammed his palm against the table.
“Keep your mouth shut.””
Officer Bennett straightened in his chair.
“Mr. Mercer, don't threaten the witness.””
“I'm not threatening anyone.””
“You just told her to keep quiet.””
“Because she's lying.””
Detective Harris raised one hand.
“Let's take this one question at a time.””
She turned back to Daniel.
“Was Karen alive when you signed this document?””
He looked toward the hallway.
For a moment, I thought he might stand up and leave.
Then he said, “Yes.””
My stomach dropped.
I had known the answer. The photograph had made it impossible to deny.
But hearing him say it aloud made the betrayal real.
“Did you know where she was being taken?”” Detective Harris asked.
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“I knew she needed treatment.””
“What kind of treatment?””
“She was unwell.””
“Was she under arrest?””
“No.””
“Was she being held against her will?””
His eyes flashed.
“Absolutely not.””
Sylvia laughed under her breath.
Detective Harris turned to her.
“Ms. Cole, do you have evidence to support your allegation that Karen was unlawfully confined?””
“I have records.””
“What records?””
“Transfer orders. Payment receipts. Emails. And a copy of the original report.””
Daniel stood.
“You stole those documents.””
Sylvia opened her handbag and removed a thick envelope.
“I made copies before you paid someone to make the originals disappear.””
Officer Bennett rose.
“Mr. Mercer, sit down.””
Daniel remained standing for another second before lowering himself into his chair.
Detective Harris opened the envelope.
The first page contained a list of dates, signatures, and reference numbers.
The second was a payment record from a private medical transport company.
The third was a handwritten note.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It was the same writing I had seen on the small pharmacy label in Sophie's bag.
Except now, looking at it on a full sheet of paper, I could see that the letters were not Karen's.
They were Daniel's.
“Where did you get this?”” I asked.
Sylvia looked at me.
“From a file Daniel left in his office.””
Daniel turned sharply.
“You went through my office?””
“You left the file on your desk.””
“That doesn't give you the right—”
“Stop,” I said.
The word came out louder than I intended.
Everyone looked at me.
I held up the paper.
“You told me the label on Sophie's bag was Karen's handwriting.””
Daniel's face tightened.
“I was mistaken.””
“No. You weren't.””
“Lily—”
“You recognized the handwriting because it was yours.””
He stared at me.
I could see him searching for a way out of the truth, some explanation that would allow him to remain the man I had married that morning.
He found nothing.
Detective Harris took the page from my hand and placed it in the evidence folder.
“Mr. Mercer, I need you to understand the seriousness of this situation. If you knowingly submitted false information during a missing-person investigation, or if you arranged for someone to be held somewhere against her will, those are matters we will investigate fully.””
“I didn't arrange for anyone to be held against her will.””
“Then tell us where she is.””
Daniel looked down at his hands.
“I don't know.””
Sylvia shook her head.
“You're still doing it.””
“Doing what?””
“Protecting the person who paid you.””
The room went silent.
Detective Harris slowly turned toward her.
“Who paid him?””
Sylvia's expression faltered.
For the first time since she arrived, she looked uncertain.
“I don't know his name.””
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Of course you don't.””
Sylvia opened her handbag again and removed a small black notebook.
“I know the account number. I know the dates. And I know the payments stopped the same week Karen disappeared from the hospital.””
Detective Harris held out her hand.
“May I see that?””
Sylvia gave it to her.
The detective examined several pages, then looked up.
“Mr. Mercer, were you receiving money connected to Karen's transfer?””
“No.””
“Were payments made to an account in your name?””
“No.””
Sylvia pointed to the notebook.
“Page fourteen.””
Detective Harris turned to it.
Daniel's expression changed.
He leaned forward, trying to see the page.
Then he whispered, “That account was supposed to be closed.””
Sylvia's face went white.
“Supposed to be?””
Daniel looked at her.
And in that instant, I understood something that had been bothering me since the beginning.
Sylvia hadn't come to our wedding to expose Daniel because she was a concerned relative.
She had come because something had gone wrong.
Something she had been trying to keep hidden.
Detective Harris closed the notebook.
“Mr. Mercer, I'm going to ask you one final question tonight. Did you receive money in exchange for your participation in Karen's transfer?””
Daniel didn't answer.
“Mr. Mercer?””
He looked toward the living room.
Toward Sophie.
Then he said, “I did what I was told to do.””
The detective's eyes narrowed.
“By whom?””
Daniel opened his mouth.
Before he could speak, a small voice came from the hallway.
“By Grandma.””
We all turned.
Sophie stood at the doorway, wrapped in her blanket.
Her cheeks were wet.
Daniel looked as though someone had struck him.
“Sophie,” he whispered.
She clutched her rabbit.
“Grandma said Mommy was making everybody unhappy. She said if Mommy went away, everything would be normal again.””
I felt the room tilt.
Daniel stood so quickly his chair fell backward.
“That's enough.””
Sophie shrank into her blanket.
I moved toward her.
“Don't you dare speak to her like that.””
Detective Harris stepped between Daniel and the doorway.
“Mr. Mercer, sit down.””
But Sophie was already looking at me.
Her lips trembled.
“Lily?””
“Yes, sweetheart?””
She took one shaky breath.
“Grandma told Daddy what to do.””
May you like
Then she looked directly at Daniel.
“And Daddy promised he would never tell you.””
