Chapter 7: What Carol Knew and When She Knew It
I didn't sleep that night.
Ethan did — eventually, after I'd sat on the edge of his bed for forty minutes, answering questions I didn't have full answers to, until his breathing slowed and his hand went loose around mine.
I sat in the kitchen after that.
The drive was gone.
Garrett had left with two other people I hadn't seen arrive.
The officers had cleared out around midnight, leaving a patrol car at the end of the street.
Carol texted twice more.
I didn't respond.
At six in the morning, she knocked on my front door.
I opened it.
She looked like she hadn't slept either.
Her hair was pulled back unevenly.
She was wearing a coat over what looked like pajama pants.
"I've been worried sick," she said.
"What happened?"
I stepped back and let her in.
She followed me to the kitchen.
I poured two cups of coffee.
Set one in front of her.
Sat down across the table.
"How do you know Paul Renner?" I said.
The cup stopped halfway to her mouth.
She set it down.
"Nicole—"
"I have a photograph.
Him and you.
Eleven days ago." I kept my voice level.
"So don't tell me you don't know him."
Carol's hands wrapped around the cup.
She stared at the table for a long moment.
"He contacted me about a year after Daniel d*ed," she said finally.
"He said he'd worked with Daniel.
He said Daniel had borrowed money — company money — and that the family might be liable."
"That's not true."
"I know that now." Her voice cracked slightly.
"I didn't know it then.
I was scared.
He said if I cooperated — just kept him informed if anything came up related to Daniel's old files — the liability would go away."
"So you became his informant."
"I didn't think of it like that."
"What did you think of it like?"
She looked up.
Her eyes were wet.
"I thought I was protecting you.
I thought if I just told him small things — nothing important — he'd leave us alone.
Leave you alone."
"You told him I'd opened the storage unit."
She looked back down.
"Yes."
"And then someone planted a tracking device on my nine-year-old son."
The sound she made wasn't quite a word.
"Carol." I waited until she looked at me.
"Did you know what he was?
What he did to Daniel?"
"No." The word came out fast and raw.
"I swear to you, Nicole.
I thought he was a financial compliance officer.
I thought this was about paperwork." She pressed her hand over her mouth for a moment.
"When the police showed up at your house last night — I started looking him up.
Really looking.
And I found—" She stopped.
"What did you find?"
"There was an article.
Three years old.
A man who d*ed in a car accident while under federal investigation." She met my eyes.
"The article mentioned a colleague who had been cooperating with investigators.
The colleague's name was Daniel."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"He was already cooperating," I said.
"Before he d*ed."
"I think so." Carol's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Nicole, I think they knew.
I think that's why—"
She couldn't finish it.
I didn't need her to.
I stood up.
Walked to the window.
The patrol car was still at the end of the street.
"You need to tell Garrett everything," I said.
"Every conversation.
Every text.
Every meeting.
All of it."
"Who is Garrett?"
"A federal agent.
He's building a case against Renner." I turned around.
"Your testimony could be part of it.
Or your silence could make you part of the problem.
That's your choice to make."
Carol looked small at my kitchen table.
Older than she'd looked the week before.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I'm so sorry, Nicole."
I looked at her for a long moment.
"I know," I said finally.
"But sorry isn't the thing that matters right now."
I picked up my phone and called Garrett.
He answered on the second ring.
"I have someone you need to talk to," I said.
"And she's going to tell you everything."
There was a brief pause on the line.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said.
I set the phone down.
Carol was watching me with red eyes.
"He's going to ask you hard questions," I said.
"I know."
"Answer them honestly.
All of them."
She nodded.
I refilled my coffee.
Sat back down across from her.
We didn't talk while we waited.
There wasn't much left to say between us — not yet, maybe not for a long time.
But she stayed at the table, and I stayed at the table, and when Garrett knocked on the door nineteen minutes later, Carol stood up on her own and walked toward it.
That was something.
May you like
It wasn't enough.
But it was something.
