Chapter 7: The Lawyer and the Name
Her name was Diane Forsythe.
She had an office above a dry-cleaning shop two towns over, a wall of filing boxes behind her desk, and the particular stillness of someone who had heard a great many terrible things and learned not to show them on her face.
Nora sat across from her.
Daniel and I sat to one side.
Ruth had come too, and sat near the door with her hands folded.
Nora told the whole story again.
Diane took notes by hand, in a small notebook, and asked questions only when Nora paused.
When Nora finished, Diane set down her pen.
"You understand that what you've described regarding Paul Vance constitutes potential criminal liability," she said.
"Providing information that facilitated the trafficking of a minor."
"Yes," Nora said.
"The federal case against Caleb Voss is still in the sentencing phase.
There is a window to provide a supplemental statement to the prosecution.
If Paul Vance's name and role can be corroborated, the prosecution may choose to pursue charges." Diane looked at her steadily.
"It will not be comfortable.
You'll be asked to make a formal statement.
It may require testimony."
"I understand."
"You're prepared for that?"
"I've been prepared for it for about fourteen months," Nora said.
"I was just waiting until I was ready."
Diane looked at her for a moment.
Then she wrote something in her notebook.
"I'll contact the federal prosecutor's office this week," she said.
"In the meantime, I want you to write down everything you remember about what Caleb told you — the specific words he used, when he said it, what he said Paul had provided.
As much detail as you can.
Don't discuss it with anyone outside this room."
"What about the police?" Daniel asked.
"The original missing persons case — the detective who handled it."
"I'll coordinate with him through the prosecutor's office," Diane said.
"It's cleaner that way.
Less risk of anything being handled in a way that could complicate the federal case."
"And Paul?" Daniel's voice was even.
"Does he know any of this is coming?"
"Not yet," Diane said.
"And it needs to stay that way."
Daniel nodded.
He'd been very controlled since the night in the lobby.
Quiet in a way I recognized — the way he got when he was holding something tightly so it didn't become something worse.
After the meeting, we stood on the pavement outside.
Ruth said she had errands and left.
Diane went back upstairs.
The three of us stood in the sun.
"That went well," Nora said.
"Yes," I said.
She looked at Daniel.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm thinking about the vigil," he said.
"The two-year vigil.
Paul stood next to me the whole night.
He read the passage from the Bible.
He helped me fold the program."
Nora was quiet.
"I'm not telling you that to make you feel responsible," Daniel said.
"I just need to say it out loud once.
And then I'm going to put it somewhere and leave it there."
"Okay," Nora said.
"He's going to say he didn't know what Caleb was."
"Probably."
"Do you believe that?"
Nora thought about it honestly.
"I believe he told himself he didn't know.
I think there's a difference."
Daniel looked at her.
Something moved through his face.
"When did you get so wise?" he said.
"Expensive therapy," she said.
"And Ruth."
From inside the dry-cleaning shop, a machine started up — a low, steady hum.
A normal Tuesday sound on a normal street.
"I want to call my mother," I said.
"Nora's grandmother.
She needs to know."
Nora went still.
"Grandma," she said quietly.
It came out like a word she hadn't said in a long time.
"She's seventy-eight.
She's still sharp.
She's been—" I stopped.
"She never stopped.
She still has your photograph on her refrigerator."
Nora pressed her lips together.
"Can I call her?" she said.
"Can I be the one to call her?"
"Yes," I said.
"Of course."
She pulled out her phone.
She looked at it for a moment.
"What if she doesn't—" She stopped.
Started again.
"What if it's too much for her?
What if it—"
"Nora." I put my hand on her arm.
"She is going to pick up that phone and hear your voice and it is going to be the best moment of the last eight years of her life."
She nodded.
She was trying not to cry.
She pressed call.
It rang twice.
Then a voice — thin and clear and immediately suspicious of unknown numbers: "Hello?
Who is this?"
Nora closed her eyes.
"Grandma," she said.
"It's me.
It's Nora."
The sound that came through the phone made Daniel turn away.
I didn't.
I stood there and listened to it and let it be exactly as big as it was.
Three days later, Diane called.
"The prosecutor's office wants to talk," she said.
"And Nora — they already have a file on Paul Vance.
Apparently Caleb Voss gave them names during plea negotiations.
Paul's name was in there."
I was standing in the hotel room.
Daniel was watching me from across the room.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means your daughter isn't the only one who remembered," Diane said.
May you like
"It means this was already coming.
She just made it certain."
