Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Margaret dropped her phone.
Daniel stared at her.
"Mom, what did you just say?"
"My sister."
"She died."
"I know."
"Then who is in that photograph?"
Margaret shook her head.
"I don't know."
The police officer took the phone and examined the image.
"Do you have a photograph of your aunt?"
Margaret nodded.
She opened an old family album stored on her phone.
The officer compared the two.
The resemblance was undeniable.
The woman in the photograph had the same eyes.
The same jawline.
The same distinctive scar above her eyebrow.
Daniel whispered:
"Who is Linda?"
Margaret sat down.
"She was my older sister."
"Why did everyone think she was dead?"
"Because she disappeared."
"That's not the same thing."
Margaret looked at him.
"Your grandfather declared her dead after years without contact."
"Did anyone find a body?"
"No."
The officer exchanged a glance with another detective.
"Then we may have a problem."
"What problem?" I asked.
"If the woman in these photographs is Linda, then the person communicating with you may be her."
My phone vibrated.
Another message.
"Don't trust Richard."
Then:
"Don't trust Michael either."
Daniel took the phone.
"Who are you?"
The sender replied immediately.
"I was there."
Daniel typed:
"Where?"
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally:
"At the kennel."
I felt my entire body go cold.
Daniel typed:
"Did you see who put my daughter there?"
The response came.
"Yes."
"What happened?"
The answer didn't arrive.
Instead, a location appeared.
It was an address.
A small house two towns away.
The detective looked at it.
"Do you know this place?"
Margaret shook her head.
But Daniel did.
"I've been there."
"When?"
"Last year."
"Why?"
"My father sent me."
"To do what?"
Daniel looked confused.
"He said there was an old family storage unit there."
Margaret suddenly stood.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Because that house belonged to Linda."
Silence.
The police moved quickly.
They arranged for officers to check the address.
We remained at the hospital.
Hours later, a detective returned.
He placed a small box on the table.
"We found this."
The box contained photographs.
Old letters.
A key.
And a notebook.
The notebook belonged to Linda.
The first pages were ordinary.
Family memories.
Addresses.
Names.
Then the handwriting changed.
One sentence had been underlined repeatedly.
"Richard knows."
Another page read:
"Margaret doesn't know."
Another:
"Daniel is being used."
My husband stared at the words.
"What does that mean?"
The detective turned the page.
There was a photograph taped inside.
It showed Richard.
Beside him was Linda.
And beside Linda was another man.
Daniel's face went pale.
"I know him."
"Who?"
"My father hired him years ago."
"To do what?"
Daniel couldn't answer.
The detective looked at the photograph.
"His name?"
Daniel whispered it.
"Thomas."
Margaret covered her mouth.
"Thomas died."
The detective slowly looked up.
"Are you sure?"
Margaret nodded.
"He died with Linda."
Daniel stared at the photograph.
Then his phone vibrated.
A new message.
"Thomas is alive."
A second message followed.
"He is the reason your father wanted the cameras destroyed."
Daniel looked at me.
Then at the detective.
"Why?"
May you like
The third message appeared.
"Because Thomas knows what happened twelve years ago."
