Chapter 7: The Storage Unit
Voss moved fast.
By noon, she had a warrant.
By two o'clock, she had a tactical unit outside a self-storage facility on the east side of the city.
Unit 114.
Registered under a false name, paid in cash, but the description from the facility manager matched Kevin Pratt exactly — a man in his mid-thirties, heavyset, a scar along his left jawline.
Daniel waited at the station with Carol, who had driven down when he called her.
At two forty-seven, Voss walked into the waiting room.
"We have him," she said.
Daniel let out a breath he had been holding since the day before.
"Was he there?"
"He was there.
He didn't run.
He was — " Voss paused.
"He was waiting.
He had a bag packed.
He had a photograph of Lily."
The room felt very cold.
"A photograph."
"Taken from outside the house.
Through the front window.
Lily at the kitchen table." Voss kept her voice level.
"It was recent.
Within the last two weeks."
Carol put her hand on Daniel's arm.
"He was watching her," Daniel said.
"Yes."
"While Rachel was keeping her locked in that room — he was outside watching."
"We believe so."
Daniel stood up.
Sat back down.
Stood up again.
"What happens to him now?"
"He's been taken into custody.
The photograph alone gives us grounds to hold him.
Combined with Rachel's statement, the call history, the cell tower data — the DA is already looking at multiple charges." Voss sat down across from him.
"This is going to take time to build properly.
But it's being built."
"And Rachel?"
"Rachel cooperated.
That matters.
Her charges stand — what she did to Lily is not excused by her fear of Kevin.
But her cooperation will be part of the record." Voss folded her hands.
"That's for the courts to weigh."
Daniel looked at the floor.
"She thought she was protecting her," he said.
"In the worst possible way, she thought she was protecting her."
"I know."
"That doesn't make it okay."
"No," Voss said.
"It doesn't."
Carol spoke quietly from beside him.
"What does Lily need now?"
"She needs consistency.
Safety.
A routine that doesn't change." Voss looked at Daniel.
"She needs to know every day that the door isn't going to be locked.
That you're going to come home.
That she can make noise." She paused.
"She's going to need a therapist who specializes in childhood trauma.
Sandra Okafor can give you a referral list.
The sooner the better."
Daniel nodded.
"Can I take her home?" he said.
"Our actual home?"
"That's your call.
Some parents find it helps to have a fresh start — a new space without the associations.
Others find that returning and reclaiming the space is better for the child.
There's no single right answer."
"I'll ask Lily," he said.
Voss looked at him.
"That's the right instinct," she said.
Carol squeezed his arm once.
Outside, the afternoon had turned gray and cool.
Through the station window, Daniel could see the parking lot, the ordinary cars, the ordinary people moving through an ordinary afternoon.
His phone buzzed.
A text from Carol's neighbor, who had stayed with Lily.
*She ate lunch.
She asked when you're coming back.
I told her soon.
She said okay and went back to drawing.*
He showed it to Carol.
She read it and pressed her lips together in a way that meant she was not going to cry in a police station.
"Let's go get her," she said.
They were almost at the door when Voss called after him.
"Mr.
Marsh."
He turned.
"Kevin Pratt said something when we brought him in." She held his gaze.
"He said Rachel always was too soft.
That she should have handled things differently a long time ago."
Daniel looked at her.
"What does that mean?"
May you like
"We don't know yet," Voss said.
"But we're going to find out."
