Chapter 8: The Person in the Photograph
The jacket was dark green.
Waxed cotton, with a particular collar that folded a specific way.
I had seen it a hundred times.
It belonged to Patrick.
I looked at the photograph for a long time without speaking.
Ethan leaned forward.
His face went through several things in quick succession.
"That's not — he wouldn't—"
"Is that Patrick Shen?" Nora asked.
"It looks like his jacket," I said carefully.
"I can't see the face."
"The camera caught a partial plate on the vehicle he arrived in." Nora turned the photograph over.
There was a printout on the back — a partial registration.
"The vehicle is registered to a holding company.
The holding company has one listed director."
She tapped the name.
Crestline Capital.
Ethan sat back in his chair.
The color had left his face.
"He called me by accident," I said.
"That's how this started.
He called me instead of you."
"Or," Nora said quietly, "he called you on purpose.
And the hesitation, the wrong number — that was him deciding in the moment whether to go through with it."
I thought about Patrick's voice.
*Careful, like a man holding something breakable.* I had assumed the breakable thing was the secret.
I had not considered that the breakable thing might have been his conscience.
"He's known Ethan for fifteen years," I said.
"How long has he known Rourke?"
No one answered that.
Nora closed the folder.
"I need to make two calls.
The first is to my FBI contact.
The second is to a private investigator I trust, who will find out exactly what Patrick Shen's connection to Crestline is and how long it has existed." She looked at Ethan.
"Is there anything else you haven't told us?
Anything at all?
Because from this point forward, surprises become liabilities."
Ethan was staring at the photograph.
"Ethan." My voice was sharp.
He looked up.
"Rourke offered me a deal.
Three weeks ago.
He said if I handed over the documents and signed a non-disclosure, he'd release Gemma — let me move her to a proper facility, let me tell you she was alive.
He said the threat was over if I cooperated."
"And?"
"I didn't take it."
"Why not?"
"Because the deal required me to sign something that would have implicated you." He said it without looking away.
"A statement saying the accident was caused by your negligent driving.
That you'd been drinking.
It would have closed the case and put the liability on you."
The air in the room shifted.
"He wanted to use me as the cover story," I said.
"Yes."
"And you said no."
"I said no."
I looked at him for a long moment.
I thought about four months.
I thought about the memorial, about Gemma's empty room, about the grief counselor's office.
I thought about everything he had done wrong and the one thing he had done right.
"Okay," I said.
Nora was already on her phone.
"I need to reach Agent Carver.
Tell him it's Ellison, and tell him it's a Crestline matter." She stood and walked to the window, her voice dropping.
"Yes.
Today."
Ethan looked at me across the table.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Not the managed version.
The real one.
I didn't answer.
But I didn't look away either.
May you like
Outside, Nora was saying: "We have documents, we have a witness, and we have a name.
How soon can you move?"
