Chapter 6 - The Voice on the Phone
Claire nearly dropped the phone.
Walter reached for it.
She stepped away.
“No.”
The voice continued.
“You’ve spent twelve years listening to people who lied to you.”
Claire looked at the men around her.
“That’s true.”
Walter flinched.
The caller chuckled.
“Good.”
“Who are you?”
“A friend of your mother.”
“You said you killed Daniel Cross.”
“I said I’m the man who killed him.”
Claire’s heart pounded.
“Then how did he contact Marcus last week?”
Marcus stared at the phone.
The caller paused.
“That’s the first intelligent question anyone has asked today.”
Walter whispered, “Keep him talking.”
Claire ignored him.
“Answer me.”
“The man calling himself Daniel Cross isn’t Daniel Cross.”
Ryan looked sick.
Claire continued.
“Then who is he?”
“That’s what Laura discovered.”
The line crackled.
Walter moved closer.
“Ask where he is.”
The caller heard him.
“Still impatient, Walter?”
Walter’s face changed.
“You know me.”
“Better than you know yourself.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“Who are you?”
“Look in Laura’s folder.”
“I already did.”
“Not the papers.”
Claire turned the folder over.
Nothing.
“Under the lining.”
Evelyn took it.
She pressed around the leather edge.
Then she found a seam.
A thin strip pulled loose.
Inside was a small brass key.
Claire stared.
“What does it open?”
The caller answered.
“Locker 317.”
“Where?”
“Union Station.”
Walter shook his head.
“No.”
Claire looked at him.
“Why?”
“Too exposed.”
The caller laughed again.
“Exactly what you said twelve years ago.”
Walter went silent.
Claire felt anger rise.
“What happened twelve years ago?”
“Your mother wanted to take the evidence public.”
Walter closed his eyes.
“You told her to wait.”
Claire looked at him.
“Is that true?”
Walter did not answer.
The caller did.
“He told her he needed forty-eight hours.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
“Why?”
Walter spoke.
“To move you.”
Claire stopped.
“What?”
“You were eight.”
Walter’s voice became rough.
“Laura believed someone was following you.”
Claire remembered fragments.
A hotel.
A long drive.
Her grandfather telling her they were taking an unexpected vacation.
She had thought it was fun.
Walter continued.
“I wanted you somewhere safe before she released anything.”
“And those forty-eight hours?”
Walter looked at her.
“Your mother died thirty-six hours later.”
Claire felt as if the room tilted.
The caller’s voice softened.
“That guilt has kept your grandfather quiet ever since.”
Claire stared at Walter.
He looked broken.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because every year that passed made it harder.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
Walter swallowed.
“It’s the truth.”
Claire turned away.
The caller interrupted.
“Union Station.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Walter shook his head again.
“We’re not walking into a trap.”
“Then don’t.”
The caller sounded amused.
“Send someone else and lose the only thing Laura died protecting.”
The line disconnected.
Claire immediately tried calling back.
The number no longer existed.
Evelyn examined the brass key.
“Could be legitimate.”
Marcus looked toward Walter.
“Or a setup.”
Thomas asked, “Who knew Laura well enough to hide this?”
Walter’s face tightened.
“Several people.”
“Give us names.”
Walter looked at him.
“Some are dead.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“Convenient.”
Walter ignored him.
Claire took the key.
“I’m going.”
Walter sighed.
“No.”
“You already lost that argument.”
“This is different.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Ryan spoke from behind them.
“She shouldn’t go alone.”
Claire looked at him.
“You’re not coming with me.”
“I didn’t say I was.”
Ryan glanced at Thomas.
“My father should.”
Thomas nodded.
Walter shook his head.
“Too recognizable.”
Marcus smiled.
“And I’m invisible?”
Walter looked at him.
“You’re an elected official.”
“Exactly.”
“That makes you worse.”
Evelyn stepped forward.
“I’ll take Claire.”
Walter looked unhappy.
Claire decided for him.
“Done.”
Two hours later, Claire sat in the back seat of an ordinary gray sedan wearing dry jeans and one of Evelyn’s spare jackets.
The floral dress was sealed in an evidence bag.
Walter had insisted.
Claire did not ask why he believed it might matter.
Union Station glowed beneath white lights.
Even at ten at night, travelers moved through the entrance.
Families.
Commuters.
Tourists.
Nobody knew Claire was carrying a key connected to a twelve-year-old mystery.
Evelyn walked several yards behind her.
They did not acknowledge each other.
Locker 317 stood near the old western corridor.
Claire inserted the key.
Her hand trembled.
The lock opened.
Inside was a small cardboard box.
Nothing exploded.
Nobody appeared.
Claire almost laughed from relief.
Then she opened the box.
Inside was a red notebook.
A flash drive.
And a photograph.
Claire picked up the photograph first.
It showed her mother.
Laura was standing beside Daniel Cross.
At least Claire assumed it was Daniel.
A date was printed on the corner.
Three months after Laura’s funeral.
Claire stared.
Her mother was supposed to have been dead.
Evelyn came closer.
“What is it?”
Claire handed her the photo.
Evelyn’s expression changed.
Then someone bumped into Claire.
“Sorry.”
A man in a baseball cap continued walking.
Claire looked down.
The flash drive was gone.
“Evelyn.”
They ran.
The man turned the corner.
Evelyn followed.
Claire stopped.
Something about the encounter felt wrong.
She looked back at the locker.
The red notebook was still there.
Why steal the flash drive but leave the notebook?
Claire opened it.
The first page contained one sentence in her mother’s handwriting.
Claire read it twice.
Then a third time.
If you are reading this, Claire, do not trust the photograph.
Claire turned the page.
May you like
Another sentence waited.
And whatever you do, do not trust Walter.
