Chapter 8: The Last Move
I read the message over her shoulder.
"Give that to Reyes," I said immediately.
She was already typing his number.
Her hands were steady.
I watched them and thought about how long she must have been preparing herself to be steady.
Reyes called back in four minutes.
"Screenshot it and don't respond," he said.
"This is useful.
It puts him in contact with you after being warned off by hospital staff.
We'll trace the number, but he's smart enough to have used something disposable." A pause.
"Are you somewhere secure?"
"Hospital," Lily said.
"Stay there until I call you.
We're moving on the warrant now."
He hung up.
Lily set the phone face-up on the table between us.
"He's scared," she said.
"Good," I said.
She almost smiled.
Not quite.
We went back to her room and waited.
The morning passed in the particular slow way that mornings do when something large is happening somewhere else.
A nurse came and checked Lily's chart.
A different doctor stopped in briefly and spoke to Lily in low tones about the treatment plan, about timelines, about options.
I sat and listened and filed everything away.
At twelve forty-seven, Reyes called.
Lily put him on speaker.
"Warrant executed at eleven-oh-three," he said.
"Warren was at his Bridgeport office.
He's in custody.
His attorney arrived at eleven-fifty and they've been in a room together since then." A brief pause.
"Garrett was picked up at his home at eleven-thirty.
He hasn't asked for an attorney yet, which means he's either very calm or very foolish."
"What did Warren say?" Lily asked.
"When they came in."
"He asked for his phone," Reyes said.
"That was the first thing.
Not his attorney.
His phone."
Lily looked at me.
"The calls to Garrett," she said.
"That's our read," Reyes said.
"He wanted to know if Garrett had talked.
He didn't get the phone." Another pause.
"Lily.
It's done.
The rest is process."
She sat with that for a moment.
"Cara's sister," she said.
"Can I call her today?"
"Yes.
I've spoken with the family's liaison.
They're expecting to hear from you."
He gave her the details and rang off.
The room was quiet.
I watched Lily look at the phone in her hand.
She set it down.
Picked it up again.
Set it down.
"Do you want me to stay while you call her?" I said.
"Yes." She didn't hesitate.
"Please."
She dialed.
It rang twice.
"Hello?" A woman's voice.
Careful.
Braced.
"My name is Lily," my daughter said.
"I knew your sister.
I'm so sorry it took me this long to find you."
A sound came through the phone that I won't try to describe.
Something between a breath and a word and thirteen years of not knowing.
I looked out the window.
The parking lot below was ordinary and full of afternoon light.
Warren's silver sedan was g*ne.
Lily talked for a long time.
She told the truth, all of it, in the same steady voice she'd used with Reyes.
She answered every question.
She didn't rush.
When she finally hung up, she sat very still.
"She said thank you," Lily said.
"She said she just needed to know."
I didn't say anything.
May you like
I moved to the bed and sat beside her, the way I had when she was small and the world had frightened her, and she leaned her head against my shoulder the way she used to then.
We sat like that for a long time.
