Chapter 6: The Driver Talks
I didn't sleep.
At six in the morning I made coffee and sat at the kitchen table with Lauren's photograph in front of me.
The grey coat.
The lawyer's office door behind her.
The date in the corner.
At seven-fifteen, Okafor called.
"The driver's name is Marcus Webb," he said.
"He's been working for a woman named Sonia Reeves for the past four years.
Reeves is a financial consultant.
She and Vanessa have known each other since college."
"I've never heard that name."
"You wouldn't have.
Reeves kept herself completely off the surface.
Webb drove Vanessa last night to a storage unit in Garfield.
We had eyes on it." A pause.
"He also drove a vehicle on Route 9 three years ago, February.
He says he was hired to follow your wife's car and report back on her route."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"He says he didn't know what was going to happen," Okafor said.
"He thought it was a surveillance job.
He's been living with it for three years.
When we picked him up last night, he didn't ask for a lawyer.
He just started talking."
"What did he say?"
"He said Vanessa called Reeves from your house the night of the accident.
He was in the car.
He heard Vanessa say: *She's leaving now.
Route 9.
The grey coat.*"
The grey coat.
Lauren had worn it because it made her feel steadier.
"Okafor." My voice came out very quiet.
"Is this enough?"
"Combined with the financial documents, the handwriting analysis, Lauren's sealed statement, and Webb's testimony — yes.
My lieutenant reviewed everything at midnight.
We have a warrant for Vanessa's arrest and one for Sonia Reeves." He paused.
"They'll execute both this morning."
I looked at the photograph.
"She came back last night," I said.
"She told me to call you and say I made a mistake.
She said she'd fight for custody."
"I know.
We were listening." Another pause.
"That conversation is now part of the record."
I set the phone down on the table without hanging up.
Outside the window, the street was just beginning to get light.
A bus went past.
Someone walked a dog.
Everything ordinary, moving through an ordinary morning, while something that had been wrong for three years was finally being corrected.
"Mr.
Mercer."
I picked the phone back up.
"Yes."
"It's done.
Both warrants executed at six-fifty this morning.
Vanessa is in custody.
Reeves was taken at her apartment."
I didn't say anything for a moment.
"My kids," I said.
"They're safe.
You can bring them home."
I hung up and sat there with Lauren's photograph and my cold coffee.
Then I put on my coat and walked to Mrs.
Calloway's apartment and knocked on the door.
My daughter opened it.
She looked at my face for a long moment with the serious, reading look she had inherited from her mother.
"Is it over, Daddy?"
I crouched down so I was level with her.
"Yes," I said.
"It's over."
She studied me for another second.
Then she put both arms around my neck, and I held her in the hallway outside Mrs.
Calloway's door, and my son appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around both of us, and I stayed there until I was sure I could stand up without my legs giving way.
Mrs.
Calloway appeared in the doorway with her hands folded.
May you like
She didn't say anything.
She just nodded once, like something she had been waiting to see had finally arrived.
