Chapter 10: What Didn't Go Away
I forwarded the message to Officer Reyes before I'd finished reading it twice.
She called back within twenty minutes.
"Can you confirm you don't recognize this number?"
"No.
I've never seen it before."
"We're going to try to trace it.
It may be a burner — in which case it'll be harder — but the message itself is useful.
It's an explicit threat connected to an open investigation." A pause.
"Ms.
— I need to ask you directly.
Do you feel safe where you are right now?"
I looked around Bennett's kitchen.
The sandwich plate.
The afternoon light coming through the window.
The dress form still visible through the open guest room door.
"Yes," I said.
"I'm not at my apartment."
"Good.
Stay away from it tonight.
Is there someone who can be with you?"
"Yes."
"All right.
I'm going to flag this for the detective handling the Faulkner case.
This changes the priority level." She paused.
"You did the right thing forwarding it immediately."
After she hung up, I showed the message to Bennett.
He read it and set my phone down on the table with the careful deliberateness of a man controlling his reaction.
"You're staying here tonight," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"I know."
"And tomorrow night if needed."
"Bennett—"
"Margaret would have insisted." He stood up and took the plates to the sink.
"I'm just following instructions."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
That night I lay in the guest room and looked at the ceiling and tried to think about what I actually knew versus what I was afraid of.
Derek Faulkner was somewhere in the city with my passport.
He had contacts — whoever had sent that message was one of them.
Adeline had run this scheme before and she'd been careful about it.
Asher was the visible face but Adeline was the architect.
And Marcus had let them in.
I thought about calling my mom.
I'd been giving her edited versions of events — something came up with the apartment, I'm handling it, don't worry.
She was still recovering.
She didn't need this.
But I missed her.
That was the simple truth of it.
I missed her the way you miss the person who knows the full version of you, not the edited one.
I picked up my phone and called her.
She answered on the second ring.
"I thought you'd be asleep," I said.
"I was watching television.
Bad habit." A pause.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong.
I just wanted to hear your voice."
She was quiet for a moment.
My mother had always been able to hear the thing underneath the thing.
"Tell me," she said.
So I did.
All of it.
The boxes, the passport, Marcus, Adeline's message, the threat.
I lay in the dark in Bennett's guest room and told my mother everything, and she listened without interrupting, which was one of her great gifts.
When I finished, she said: "Are you safe right now?"
"Yes.
I'm at Bennett's."
"Good." A pause.
"That man is a treasure."
"I know."
"And Marcus." She said his name carefully.
"He made very bad choices."
"Yes."
"But he came to you."
"Eventually."
"That matters," she said.
"Not enough to erase the rest.
But it matters." Another pause.
"What do you need right now?"
I thought about it.
"I think I just needed to tell someone the whole story," I said.
"Then I'm glad you called." Her voice was warm and steady.
"Come back to me when this is done.
We'll have tea and you can be angry about it properly."
I smiled in the dark.
"Deal."
"I love you."
"I love you too, Mom."
I put the phone down and closed my eyes.
The dress form stood in the corner.
Outside, the city made its quiet nighttime sounds.
Two days later, Officer Reyes called again.
"Derek Faulkner was apprehended this morning," she said.
"Crossing into a neighboring state.
He was carrying your passport."
I sat down.
"He's in custody," she said.
"The passport has been recovered and will be returned to you through official channels once it's been processed as evidence.
You'll need to apply for a replacement in the meantime, but the compromised document is off the table."
"Is he being charged?"
"Identity document theft, possession of stolen property, and there are additional charges pending from the other jurisdiction.
His attorney is already involved, but the evidence is strong." A pause.
"The threat message — we traced the number to a phone registered to an associate of his.
That person has also been brought in for questioning."
I realized I was gripping the phone very hard.
I loosened my hand.
"Thank you," I said.
"You made our job easier," Reyes said.
"The documentation you provided — the photos, the sublease, the written statement from your cousin — that built the picture quickly.
These things are harder when people wait."
After she hung up, I sat for a long time.
Then I called Bennett.
"They got him," I said.
A pause.
Then: "Good."
Just that.
May you like
One word.
But the way he said it — quiet and complete, like a door closing on something that had been left open too long — was exactly right.
