Chapter 9: The Woman in the Dark Coat
Her name was Patricia Elms.
Voss called me on a Thursday morning, eleven days after the arrest, and told me that Patricia Elms had walked into the station the previous evening with a lawyer and a written statement that ran to forty-seven pages.
"She was Hale's personal assistant for six years," Voss said.
"She organized his schedule.
Managed his charitable donations.
Coordinated with Brenda Cole on the event logistics." A pause.
"She was the woman at the first sleepover.
The one Lily described."
I sat down slowly at my kitchen counter.
"She left the memory card," I said.
"Yes.
She had been building a record for eight months.
She copied files, saved communications, documented dates and locations.
She said she tried to find a way out three times before this.
Each time, Hale made it clear what would happen to her if she went to the authorities." Voss paused.
"He had documentation of her own early involvement.
He used it to keep her in place."
"She was trapped."
"She believed she was.
Whether the law sees it that way is a separate question." Voss's voice was careful.
"What I can tell you is that her statement names four additional individuals connected to this network.
Two of them are currently under investigation in other jurisdictions.
One of them is a sitting official."
I pressed my hand flat on the counter.
"And Martin Hale?"
"Detained at a private airfield in Georgia yesterday evening.
He had a chartered flight booked under a different name.
He's in federal custody as of this morning."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"He's been charged?"
"Multiple counts.
Federal.
The U.S.
Attorney's office is handling it from here.
This is no longer just a local matter." She paused.
"Dana.
Chloe Marsh.
We have a strong lead on her location as of last night.
I can't say more than that.
But her parents have been notified."
My eyes closed.
"Okay," I said.
My voice came out smaller than I intended.
"You did everything right," Voss said.
"From the first moment on that driveway."
"Patricia Elms left that card," I said.
"She's the one who actually —"
"You're the one who didn't drive away," Voss said.
"Both things are true."
After I hung up, I sat at the counter for a long time without moving.
The coffee I'd made was cold.
I didn't notice until I picked it up.
I thought about Brenda Cole's note, still folded in the pocket of the jacket I'd worn that day.
*I told myself they were never in any real danger.
I told myself that every single time.*
I thought about a nine-year-old girl named Chloe somewhere, and her parents in a hotel room waiting for a phone to ring.
May you like
I thought about Lily, asleep upstairs in my guest room, where she had been staying since the morning everything changed.
I got up, poured the cold coffee down the drain, and made a fresh cup.
