Chapter 8: What the Camera Saw
Detective Sonya Marsh was not what I expected.
She was in her late forties, unhurried, with the kind of stillness that made you want to fill the silence.
She let Christopher talk for a long time before she asked her first question.
"The garage cameras," she said.
"You're certain the handoff was captured?"
"The camera above the east stairwell covers the entire lower level," Christopher said.
"We were standing directly under it."
"And you're coming forward with this voluntarily."
"Yes."
She wrote something down.
"Mr.
Rowe — or Bennett — which do you prefer?"
"Bennett.
The name change is legal and documented."
"Mr.
Bennett." She set her pen down.
"The prepaid phone.
You've never seen it before last night?"
"Never."
"And you have no idea who sent the message."
"I believe it was Victor Hale or someone acting for him.
But I can't prove that yet."
Marsh looked at me.
"Mrs.
Bennett.
The insomnia medication.
Is it prescribed?"
"Yes.
Dr.
Carol Finney.
I've been on it for two years."
"And your husband prepared the milk and encouraged you to take it."
"He does that sometimes.
It wasn't unusual."
"But you fell asleep faster than normal."
"Significantly faster."
She made another note.
"We'll want to test the glass.
If it's still in the apartment."
"It is," I said.
"I didn't wash it.
I didn't touch anything in the bedroom after I found the phone."
Something shifted slightly in Marsh's expression.
Not surprise.
More like reassessment.
"You preserved the scene," she said.
"My sister is a paralegal."
Marsh glanced at Ruth.
Ruth said nothing.
"All right." Marsh stood.
"I'm going to need the phone, the lock app log exported and screenshotted with timestamps, and access to your apartment for our tech team.
I'm also going to pull the garage footage before the end of the day." She looked at Christopher.
"I'd strongly suggest you retain an attorney before we speak again."
"Am I a suspect?" Christopher said.
"You're a witness who was also potentially a victim of a fraud scheme and possibly an unwitting participant in an identity operation that ended in a fatality." She said it carefully, each word placed.
"Whether that changes depends on what the camera shows and what the lab finds in that glass."
Christopher nodded.
We were outside the precinct by noon.
The sun was sharp and too bright for how the day felt.
"She's good," Ruth said.
"Yes," I said.
"She'll find Hale."
"If he hasn't already moved."
Christopher was standing a few feet away, looking at his phone.
He turned.
"He called me," he said.
"While we were inside.
Victor Hale.
He left a voicemail."
Ruth and I looked at each other.
"Don't delete it," Ruth said immediately.
"I'm not going to delete it." He held the phone out toward me.
"Do you want to hear it?"
I took the phone.
I put it on speaker.
Hale's voice was smooth.
Unhurried.
The voice of a man who had never once been caught at anything.
*"Christopher.
I heard about the terrible accident last night.
I'm so sorry about your brother.
I understand this must be an incredibly difficult time.
I wanted to reach out personally to let you know that the property transaction doesn't need to be complicated by any of this.
There are legal mechanisms to proceed, and I'd love to walk you through them at your earliest convenience.
I'm here for you.
Whatever you need."*
The message ended.
None of us spoke for a moment.
"He doesn't know you've been to the police," Ruth said.
"No," Christopher said.
"And he's already trying to keep the transaction moving." She looked at me.
"He thinks it still works.
He thinks Daniel's d@ath clears the path."
"Because he doesn't know we know about the mineral rights," I said.
"Or that we have the phone."
Christopher was looking at the voicemail screen.
"What do I do?"
"You call him back," I said.
Both of them looked at me.
May you like
"You call him back," I said again.
"And you tell him you want to meet."
