Chapter 5 - The Black CarI stared at the photograph until the edges blurred.
Lily was smiling.
Her backpack was hanging from one shoulder.
A black sedan waited behind her.
Mom was unmistakable behind the wheel.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
Victor took the phone.
"Where did you get this?"
I showed him the number.
"Unknown."
Daniel studied the photograph.
"Metadata?"
"I don't know."
"I can check."
He forwarded it to himself.
I couldn't breathe normally.
"Mom told me she was at the hospital that day."
Victor looked at me.
"Was she?"
I shook my head.
I remembered.
Lily had been sick that week.
Mom said she would visit us later because she had an appointment.
An appointment.
Not the hospital.
An appointment.
I called her.
She answered after two rings.
"Stephanie?"
"Where were you on March 17?"
Silence.
"Mom."
"I don't remember."
"You picked Lily up from school."
"No."
"I have a photograph."
Her breathing changed.
"Where did you get it?"
"Who sent it?"
"I don't know."
"You know exactly who."
She hung up.
I looked at Victor.
"She knows."
"Yes."
Daniel returned with the image analysis.
"The photograph is original."
My stomach twisted.
"It was taken by a phone."
"Whose?"
"Can't determine from the image alone."
Victor pointed to the car.
"Look at the windshield."
There was a reflection.
A man standing behind the camera.
Large shoulders.
Dark jacket.
I zoomed in.
The image pixelated.
But something about him felt familiar.
Daniel stared at the reflection.
"That's impossible."
"What?"
He enlarged it.
"The watch."
A silver watch appeared on the man's wrist.
Daniel swallowed.
"Richard owned that watch."
"Then Dad took the picture?"
"Maybe."
"But Dad didn't have a phone like that."
Victor said,
"Someone else took the photograph and used his watch as a disguise."
My skin prickled.
"Why?"
Nobody knew.
I called Lily's former teacher.
She answered.
"Stephanie?"
"I need you to think carefully. Three years ago, before Lily died, did you see my mother at the school?"
The teacher was silent.
Then,
"Yes."
My heart stopped.
"When?"
"That day."
"March 17?"
"Yes."
"What did she do?"
"I thought she was picking Lily up."
"Was she?"
"No."
I gripped the phone.
"What do you mean?"
"She spoke to Lily."
"About what?"
"I don't know."
"Please."
The teacher sighed.
"Your daughter looked scared."
I closed my eyes.
"What did she say?"
"I remember one sentence."
"What?"
"She said, 'Grandma told me Daddy's papers were dangerous.'"
I nearly dropped the phone.
"What papers?"
"I don't know."
"Did anyone else hear?"
"There was another man."
"Who?"
"He was waiting near the parking lot."
"The black car?"
"Yes."
I ended the call.
Daniel's face was grim.
Victor looked at me.
"Your father had enemies."
"Why would they involve my child?"
"Because children talk."
I felt rage rising through me.
Then fear.
Three years of grief suddenly rearranged itself.
What if Lily had not been the target?
What if she had simply been standing too close to something adults were trying to hide?
I looked at the trust documents.
"Mara."
Daniel nodded.
"We find her."
Victor reached into his coat and removed a torn piece of paper.
"Mara left this with me."
I unfolded it.
An address.
An abandoned storage facility outside the city.
"She was there?"
"Maybe."
"Why didn't you go?"
"Because someone was following me."
I looked at him.
"Who?"
He shook his head.
"I never saw his face."
Daniel said,
"We should go now."
The three of us drove to the storage facility.
The place was almost empty.
Rusting doors.
Cracked concrete.
A row of silent units.
Mara's number was 117.
The lock had already been cut.
Inside, there were shelves, old boxes, and a desk.
No Mara.
But there was a laptop.
An old one.
Powered on.
The screen showed a folder titled:
STEPHANIE HALE
I stepped closer.
"Why would Mara have a file on me?"
Daniel touched the trackpad.
The folder contained dozens of documents.
My birth certificate.
My college records.
My business registration.
Lily's school records.
My divorce paperwork.
Photographs of my house.
Photographs of my store.
My stomach turned.
"Someone was watching me."
Victor whispered,
"Not someone."
I looked at him.
"Who?"
He pointed at one file.
CLIENT: MERCER
I opened it.
The first page contained a payment authorization.
The client had hired a private investigator.
The target was me.
Date of initiation:
March 18.
One day after the photograph of Lily.
My hand shook.
Then the screen flashed.
A message appeared.
YOU FOUND THE WRONG FILE.
The laptop camera light turned on.
Someone was watching us through it.
Victor grabbed the computer and smashed it shut.
But before the screen went black, one more line appeared.
May you like
GO HOME, STEPHANIE.
YOUR MOTHER IS WAITING.
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