Chapter 2 - The Voice Behind the Door
I stared at Officer Carter.
"Nobody else was there."
"That's why I'm asking."
"Eric, Margaret, Lily and me. That's it."
"Was any television playing?"
"No."
"Radio?"
"No."
"Computer?"
I shook my head.
Carter wrote something.
"What exactly did the voice say?" I asked.
She hesitated.
"Eric's name first."
"And?"
"Then: 'Don't do this again.'"
Again.
The word settled inside me.
"Can I hear it?"
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because detectives are reviewing the full recording."
I looked toward Lily.
She slept in the hospital bassinet beside my bed.
"Do you think somebody was hiding in our apartment?"
"We don't know."
But her face told me the possibility wasn't absurd.
I thought about every room.
Our bedroom.
Lily's nursery.
Bathroom.
Closets.
Then I remembered the hallway closet.
Eric kept it locked.
He claimed it contained tools and paperwork.
I had stopped asking for the key months earlier.
"There is a closet."
Carter's pen stopped.
"What kind?"
"Hallway storage."
"Locked?"
"Always."
"Who has the key?"
"Eric."
Carter stood.
"I'll make a call."
"Officer."
She turned.
"Don't tell Eric I mentioned it."
Her expression softened.
"We won't."
The detectives searched the apartment that morning.
I wasn't there.
Denise helped arrange a confidential temporary place for Lily and me once doctors cleared us to leave.
But before that happened, Detective Marcus Hale came to my hospital room.
He was in his forties, calm, careful, and spoke as though every word had been weighed first.
"The locked closet was empty."
I stared at him.
"Empty?"
"Almost."
"What does almost mean?"
He placed photographs on the table.
Inside the closet was a folding chair.
A charging cable.
Three empty water bottles.
And a small hole drilled through the wall.
The hole faced the living room.
I felt sick.
"Somebody was watching us?"
"We don't know."
"But somebody sat there."
"Possibly."
"Why?"
"We're investigating."
I studied the photograph.
Then I saw something on the floor.
A corner of paper.
"What's that?"
Hale followed my finger.
"A receipt."
"For what?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he slid another photograph forward.
It was from a pharmacy.
Baby formula.
Purchased three weeks earlier.
Paid in cash.
I looked at the date.
I remembered that day.
Eric had screamed because I'd bought formula that morning.
He had held the receipt in front of me and demanded to know why Lily needed the expensive kind.
Yet somebody else had purchased the exact same formula that afternoon.
"Who bought this?"
"We're trying to find out."
My mind raced.
"Margaret?"
"She says no."
"Eric?"
"He says no."
"Do you believe them?"
Hale gave me the only answer a detective could.
"I believe evidence."
He gathered the photographs.
Before he left, I asked the question I couldn't stop thinking about.
"Where is Eric?"
"In custody while the investigation continues."
"And Margaret?"
"She's been interviewed."
"Did she tell you who was in the closet?"
"No."
"Does she know?"
Hale looked at me.
"Mrs. Lawson, your mother-in-law knows more than she's saying."
That afternoon, my phone was returned after investigators preserved the necessary data.
It contained seventeen missed calls.
Twelve from Margaret.
Three from numbers I didn't recognize.
Two from my sister, Jenna.
I called Jenna first.
She cried before I did.
"I'm coming."
"Don't come to the apartment."
"I'm not."
I told her where Denise had arranged for us to meet.
Then another call appeared.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
I ignored it.
It called again.
Then a text arrived.
YOU DID THE RIGHT THING.
My heart stopped.
Another message.
I SHOULD HAVE DONE IT YEARS AGO.
I showed Denise.
She immediately contacted Detective Hale.
Before he arrived, a third message appeared.
ASK MARGARET WHAT HAPPENED TO ANNA.
I had never heard that name.
Hale arrived twenty minutes later.
"Who's Anna?" I asked.
His expression told me something.
"You know."
"I know the name."
"From where?"
He sat down.
"During Margaret's interview, she accidentally mentioned an Anna."
"Who is she?"
"She refused to explain."
I looked at the text again.
ASK MARGARET WHAT HAPPENED TO ANNA.
Hale took a photograph of my screen.
Then my phone rang.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
Hale looked at me.
"Answer it on speaker."
I did.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then breathing.
A woman's voice whispered:
"Rachel?"
"Who is this?"
Another pause.
"You don't know me."
"Then how do you know me?"
"Because I know Eric."
Hale leaned closer.
The woman began crying.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For waiting."
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"Who are you?"
The answer came barely above a whisper.
"My name is Anna."
Before I could speak, she said one more thing.
May you like
"Margaret told everyone I was dead."
Then the call disconnected.
