Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Disappeared
“Claire.”
The voice came from inside the elevator.
I knew it.
Detective Lena Ortiz stepped into the corridor.
The orderly immediately hid the flash drive in his fist.
Ortiz was in her early forties, with tired eyes and the controlled posture of someone accustomed to entering rooms where everybody had something to hide.
She looked at my hospital gown, my bare feet, and then the orderly.
“Mrs. Mercer, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”
“I needed air.”
“At the elevators?”
I said nothing.
The orderly started to leave.
Ortiz stopped him.
“You work here?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Ethan Cole.”
“What’s in your hand?”
“Nothing.”
Ortiz looked at me.
Then back at Ethan.
“Open it.”
My stomach sank.
Ethan did.
The red flash drive lay in his palm.
Ortiz stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
Ethan swallowed.
“A woman gave it to me.”
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“Rachel Kim.”
Ortiz’s expression sharpened.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Rachel was alive.
At least she had been yesterday.
Ortiz took the drive but didn’t pocket it.
She held it by the edges.
“Mrs. Mercer, we need to talk.”
Back in my room, I decided the lie had already become too dangerous.
Not because Daniel suspected me.
Because the police might.
Ortiz closed the door.
“You told officers at the crash scene nothing, obviously. You were unconscious. Your husband said you left home upset after an argument.”
“What kind of argument?”
“He said you were discussing divorce.”
Daniel had admitted that much.
Interesting.
“Did he tell you why?”
“No.”
“I discovered financial documents with my forged signature.”
Ortiz’s face remained neutral.
“What documents?”
“Transfers. Trust paperwork. Insurance.”
“How much money?”
“Potentially millions.”
She looked at the drive.
“And that’s on here?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“I copied files from Daniel’s computer before I left.”
Ethan stared at me.
Ortiz asked, “Does your husband know?”
“He knows a drive existed.”
“And Rachel?”
“My attorney. I was driving to meet her.”
Ortiz took out a notebook.
“What do you remember about the crash?”
I told her.
The black SUV.
The impact.
The guardrail.
The feeling of the steering wheel jerking uselessly under my hands.
Then another memory surfaced.
A horn.
Three short blasts.
The SUV had honked before hitting me.
Not rage.
A signal.
I told Ortiz.
She wrote it down.
“Why were you pretending to have amnesia?”
“Because Daniel and Evelyn were relieved when they thought I couldn’t remember.”
Ortiz studied me.
“That’s not evidence.”
“I know.”
“It could also be relief that you weren’t emotionally overwhelmed.”
“I know.”
“But you don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Ortiz placed the flash drive into an evidence bag.
“You understand I can’t let you keep this.”
“Make a copy.”
“If it’s relevant evidence, it gets logged.”
“And then?”
“Then we examine it.”
“What if Daniel has someone inside the department?”
Ortiz’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s a serious accusation.”
“I didn’t accuse anyone.”
“You implied it.”
“Three days ago I would have said my husband loved me.”
I looked at the drive.
“Forgive me if my standards for trust have changed.”
Ethan cleared his throat.
“Rachel said something else.”
We both looked at him.
“She said if anyone asked where she was, I should say I never saw her.”
Ortiz stood.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“She came here?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“Why you?”
Ethan hesitated.
“My sister works at Ms. Kim’s law firm.”
“What’s her name?”
“Naomi.”
Ortiz wrote it down.
“Call her.”
Ethan did.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Ortiz’s expression hardened.
“Give me the address.”
Twenty minutes later, she left with the flash drive.
Dr. Hale returned and was furious that I had gotten out of bed.
I barely heard him.
Rachel was alive.
Rachel had come to the hospital.
And Rachel had been afraid enough to use an orderly as a courier.
Daniel arrived the next morning carrying flowers.
White roses.
My favorite.
I hated them immediately.
He smiled when he saw me.
“How’s my girl?”
My girl.
I had once loved hearing that.
Now it sounded like ownership.
“Better.”
He kissed my forehead.
“Do you remember me today?”
I forced a weak smile.
“You’re Daniel.”
His eyes warmed.
“Good.”
“Your mother told me.”
The warmth disappeared.
Just briefly.
He sat beside me.
“We’ve been married eleven years.”
“Were we happy?”
The question surprised him.
“Yes.”
Too fast.
“We were very happy.”
“Then why was I driving alone at night?”
“You needed space.”
“From you?”
He looked wounded.
Beautifully wounded.
“We had an argument.”
“About what?”
“Nothing important.”
I stared at him.
Daniel smiled sadly.
“You were under stress.”
“What kind?”
“Your foundation. Your father’s estate. Rachel filling your head with legal nonsense.”
There.
Rachel.
I let confusion cross my face.
“Who’s Rachel?”
His eyes searched mine.
“Your attorney.”
“Do I like her?”
“You trust her.”
His mouth tightened.
“Too much.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“Claire, people may come asking questions. Police. Lawyers. Maybe reporters.”
“Why reporters?”
“Your family name.”
My father had founded Ellison Biomedical and sold it before his death. I had inherited enough money to make privacy difficult and greed inevitable.
Daniel continued.
“You don’t need to talk to anyone until you’re stronger.”
“Okay.”
“I can handle everything.”
“I know.”
He relaxed.
Then I asked, “What happened to my phone?”
His hand stopped moving.
“The crash destroyed it.”
“Were you there?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Police told me.”
A lie.
Detective Ortiz had told me my phone was missing.
Not destroyed.
Daniel changed the subject.
He talked about home.
About the garden.
About how our dog, Milo, waited beside the front door.
Normal things.
That was the cruelest part.
There had been a real marriage once.
Sunday breakfasts.
Road trips.
Arguments about movies.
His hand on my back at crowded parties.
Maybe some of it had been genuine.
Maybe none of it had.
Evelyn arrived at noon.
She brought clothes for me.
Including a burgundy robe almost identical to the one I had been wearing.
“I thought familiar things might help.”
She smiled.
I smiled back.
“Thank you.”
Evelyn sat down.
“Daniel tells me you remembered him.”
“A little.”
Her eyes brightened.
“Anything else?”
“Should I?”
“No, darling.”
She took my hand.
“Don’t force yourself.”
That afternoon, Daniel stepped out to take a call.
Evelyn remained.
She adjusted my blanket.
“You’ve always been like a daughter to me.”
I almost admired her nerve.
“Was I?”
Her smile faltered.
“You are.”
“Daniel said we argued.”
“Married people argue.”
“Did you know why?”
“No.”
Another lie.
I watched her.
She watched me.
Two women pretending.
Then Evelyn leaned closer.
“You should be careful with memories after a head injury.”
“What do you mean?”
“The brain fills gaps.”
“With false memories?”
“Sometimes.”
“So if I remember something bad…”
“It may never have happened.”
Her thumb stroked my hand.
“Trust the people who love you.”
That was not reassurance.
It was instruction.
At four, Dr. Hale entered with discharge papers.
Daniel objected immediately.
“She’s not ready.”
“Medically, she is.”
“I want another night.”
“Mrs. Mercer can choose.”
Everyone looked at me.
I wanted out.
But not home.
“I’d like to leave.”
Daniel smiled.
“Then I’ll take you home.”
I looked at Dr. Hale.
“I’d rather stay with a friend.”
Silence.
Daniel’s smile disappeared.
“What friend?”
I pretended to struggle.
“I don’t know.”
Evelyn touched his arm.
“She’s confused.”
Daniel recovered.
“Of course.”
He kissed my hand.
“We’ll go home. Familiar surroundings will help.”
I knew refusing too strongly would expose me.
So I agreed.
That evening, I returned to the house where I had lived for eleven years with a man I no longer trusted.
Daniel carried my bag upstairs.
Evelyn prepared tea.
I walked slowly through the living room.
Nothing had changed.
Except one thing.
A framed photograph was missing from the mantel.
It had shown Daniel, Rachel, and me at my foundation gala six months earlier.
Why remove that picture?
I waited until Daniel went upstairs.
Then I checked the trash.
Nothing.
I checked the drawer beneath the mantel.
Empty.
Then Milo began barking at the back door.
Not his excited bark.
His warning bark.
I opened it.
Nobody.
Only darkness.
Then I saw an envelope taped beneath the patio table.
My name was written across it.
CLAIRE.
I opened it.
Inside was the missing photograph.
Rachel’s face had been circled in red ink.
On the back were six words:
HE KNOWS SHE CAME TO THE HOSPITAL.
My hands began shaking.
Then my phone rang upstairs.
I didn’t have a phone.
I looked toward the staircase.
The ringing continued.
May you like
It was coming from my bedroom.
From the phone Daniel said had been destroyed.
