Chapter 5: Two Doors Down
"Patricia," I said.
"How did you get this number?"
"Your daughter gave it to me.
About three months ago." Her voice was careful, like someone walking on ice they weren't sure would hold.
"She knocked on my door one afternoon.
She said she just wanted to sit somewhere quiet for a while.
I let her in.
I made her tea." A pause.
"She came back four more times after that."
I looked at Maya.
Maya was looking at the blanket.
"She never told me," I said.
"She asked me not to tell anyone.
She was afraid of what would happen if he found out she'd been talking to someone." Patricia's voice dropped.
"Mrs.
Hale, I'm seventy-one years old.
I've seen things in my life I wish I hadn't.
And I am telling you right now — I should have called sooner.
I am sorry I didn't."
Detective Hargrove was watching me.
I put the phone on speaker.
"Patricia, I have a detective here with me.
His name is Hargrove.
Is it all right if he listens?"
"That's why I called," she said.
Hargrove leaned slightly forward.
"Mrs.
Donnell," he said, "can you tell me what Maya shared with you during those visits?"
"She didn't share much in words.
She mostly sat and drank her tea and watched my garden through the window." Patricia paused.
"But the third time she came, she had a bruise on her forearm.
She said she'd walked into a door.
I didn't push.
The fourth time, she had one on her collarbone.
She didn't explain that one at all."
"And the fifth visit?" Hargrove asked.
A long pause.
"She asked me if I had a safe place to keep something.
Something small.
She said she couldn't keep it at home because he went through her room."
My breath stopped.
"I said yes," Patricia continued.
"She gave me a folded piece of paper and a USB drive.
She said — and I remember this exactly — she said, 'If something happens to me, give these to my mom.'"
The exam room was completely silent.
"Mrs.
Donnell," Hargrove said, "do you still have those items?"
"I have them in my hand right now," she said.
"I've had them for eleven weeks.
I've taken them out and put them back six times." Her voice broke slightly.
"I should have called the first week.
I know that."
"Can you bring them to Mercy General Hospital?
Ask for Detective Hargrove at the front desk."
"I'm already in my car," Patricia said.
The call ended.
I turned to Maya.
"You planned for this," I said.
She didn't deny it.
"I didn't know if it would ever be enough.
He's careful.
He never does anything where anyone can see." She pulled at a loose thread on the blanket.
"But he makes mistakes when he's angry.
He forgets to be careful.
So I started keeping track."
"What's on the drive?" I asked.
"Voice recordings.
Dates and times written down.
Photographs I took with my phone when he wasn't home." She finally looked up.
"And a letter.
In case I wasn't around to explain."
The phrase landed like something heavy dropped on a stone floor.
"Maya—"
"I'm okay," she said quickly.
"I just wanted there to be something.
In case he convinced everyone I was lying.
In case you believed him instead of me."
I crossed the room and sat beside her on the table and put my arms around her and she let me.
She was rigid for a moment, like she'd forgotten how to accept it.
Then she leaned in, and she was fifteen years old, and she was also twelve, and she was also every age she'd been while she was carrying this alone.
"I believe you," I said into her hair.
"I believed you the moment Dr.
Lawson turned that screen away."
She didn't cry.
She just held on.
Hargrove stepped quietly to the door to give us a moment.
Before he left, he turned back.
"Mrs.
Hale.
The items your neighbor is bringing — if they contain what your daughter described, this case changes significantly." He said it plainly, without drama.
"Robert Hale will not be going home tonight."
After he left, Maya pulled back and looked at me.
"He's going to say I did this to break up the family," she said.
"He's going to say I manipulated you."
"Let him say it," I said.
"He'll be convincing."
"I know he will." I held her face in both hands.
"I don't care."
For the first time in that long terrible day, something in Maya's eyes shifted.
Not happiness.
Not relief.
Something smaller and more important than either of those.
She believed me.
Forty minutes later, Hargrove knocked on the door.
"Mrs.
Donnell is here," he said.
"And Mrs.
Hale — Robert Hale has left the parking lot.
His attorney called the department twelve minutes ago."
May you like
He already had an attorney on the phone.
He'd made that call before he even came to the hospital.
