Chapter 2 - The Woman in the Photograph
The ambulance ride to Saint Joseph's felt longer than my entire flight home.
I sat beside Emily while a paramedic monitored her blood pressure and the baby's heartbeat.
There are sounds you don't realize you need until you hear them.
The rhythmic pulse from the fetal monitor was one of them.
Fast.
Steady.
Alive.
Emily closed her eyes when the paramedic said the baby appeared stable.
I pressed my forehead against her hand.
"I'm sorry."
Her eyes opened.
"For what?"
"I left you there."
"You didn't know."
"I should have."
"Daniel."
"My mother has hated you for years. I kept telling myself she was difficult. Traditional. Controlling. I kept making excuses."
"You couldn't imagine this."
Neither could I.
That was the problem.
At the hospital, doctors treated Emily for dehydration and mild malnutrition.
They kept her overnight because of the cramping.
I stayed beside her until Detective Hale appeared outside the room.
He didn't enter immediately.
He waited until Emily nodded.
"Come in."
Marcus closed the door.
"Mrs. Mercer, I want to be careful here. You've been through a lot. We can speak tomorrow."
"No."
Her voice was weak but certain.
"I want to tell you now."
Marcus took out a notebook.
"When did Margaret lock you in the shed?"
"Tuesday morning."
"What happened before that?"
Emily looked at me.
"I went inside looking for the folding chairs."
"For what?"
"The neighborhood charity dinner. Margaret said the chairs were stored in the shed."
I frowned.
"We haven't kept chairs there in years."
"I know that now."
Marcus looked up.
"You believe she intentionally sent you there?"
Emily nodded.
"I found the trunk because one of the storage bins had been moved. The lid was partly visible."
"What made you open it?"
"I wasn't trying to snoop. The trunk had Daniel's name written on a label."
My chest tightened.
"My name?"
"Yes."
She continued.
"I opened it. There were photographs, papers, an old driver's license, the bracelet, and several envelopes."
"The letter from Daniel's father?"
"That was on top."
"What did you read?"
Emily's hand tightened around mine.
"The first page said, 'Daniel, if you're reading this, Margaret has finally lost control of the truth.'"
Marcus wrote quickly.
"What else?"
"It mentioned Rachel."
"Rachel Monroe?"
"Yes. It said Rachel had proof."
"Proof of what?"
"I didn't get that far."
"Why?"
"Margaret came in."
Emily stared at the hospital blanket.
"She didn't yell at first. She just stood in the doorway."
"What did she say?"
Emily's voice dropped.
"She said, 'You shouldn't have opened that.'"
My stomach turned.
"What happened next?"
"She took the letter. I told her I was going to call Daniel. She grabbed my phone."
"Did she physically assault you?"
"She pushed me backward when I tried to leave."
"Then?"
"She walked outside."
Emily paused.
"I followed."
"But?"
"She slammed the door."
I closed my eyes.
"I heard the lock."
Marcus was silent for several seconds.
"What happened during the three days?"
"She came back twice."
My eyes opened.
"Twice?"
Emily nodded.
"The first night, she stood outside and told me that if I promised never to tell Daniel about the trunk, she'd let me out."
"And you refused?"
"I told her Daniel deserved the truth."
Marcus asked, "What did she say?"
Emily looked directly at me.
"She said Daniel had already lost one parent because of that truth and she wasn't going to let me destroy the other."
My father's death had always been described as an accident.
He had driven off a rain-slicked road late at night.
No witnesses.
No other vehicle.
At least that was what my mother had told me.
"What happened the second time she returned?" Marcus asked.
Emily swallowed.
"Yesterday morning."
"Did she bring food?"
"No."
"Water?"
"One bottle."
"Anything else?"
"She wanted me to sign something."
Marcus stopped writing.
"What?"
"A document."
"What kind?"
"I couldn't see everything. She said it was a statement confirming I had locked myself inside during an emotional breakdown."
My entire body stiffened.
"She wanted you to say you did this to yourself?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"So nobody would believe me later."
Marcus leaned back.
"Did you sign?"
"No."
"What did she do?"
"She took the water away."
I stood.
I didn't remember deciding to.
"Daniel."
Emily reached for me.
I stopped.
"I'm okay."
I wasn't.
Marcus remained calm.
"Your mother is currently being detained."
"Detained?"
"Based on your wife's statement and what officers observed, yes."
"Charged?"
"That's up to the prosecutor, but unlawful imprisonment is obviously being considered. Possibly additional offenses."
I thought about the trunk.
"What's happening with the evidence?"
"We secured the shed."
"And the letter?"
"We'll process it, then you'll likely be able to see copies."
"What about Rachel Monroe?"
His expression changed slightly.
"We're checking."
"Is she alive?"
"We don't know yet."
That answer stayed with me all night.
Emily slept after midnight.
I didn't.
At 2:17 a.m., my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw the message.
DO NOT TRUST THE POLICE WITH YOUR FATHER'S LETTER.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
MARGARET IS NOT THE ONLY PERSON WHO WANTED THAT SHED KEPT CLOSED.
I immediately called Marcus.
He answered on the third ring.
"Mercer?"
"I just got messages."
"What kind?"
I read them.
"Screenshot everything. Don't respond."
"Can you trace it?"
"We'll try."
I looked at Emily sleeping.
"Detective, what did you find on Rachel Monroe?"
A pause.
"Daniel, this isn't the best time."
"Tell me."
Another pause.
"She disappeared eleven years ago."
The same year my father died.
"When?"
"Three days before his accident."
I sat down.
"What?"
"She was thirty-two. Worked as an accountant."
"For whom?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Your father's company."
Mercer Development had been my family's business before my father died.
My mother sold most of it afterward.
"Why didn't I know?"
"You were twenty-four and living out of state."
"Was my mother questioned?"
"We're pulling the old case file."
"Was my father?"
"I don't know yet."
My phone vibrated again.
A third message.
This one included a photograph.
I opened it.
My father stood beside a woman.
Rachel.
They were outside a bank.
The timestamp showed four days before she disappeared.
But it was the person standing behind them that made my skin go cold.
My mother.
Watching them.
I forwarded the photograph to Marcus.
He went quiet.
"Where did you get that?"
"Same number."
"Don't leave the hospital."
"What does it mean?"
"I don't know."
Then he added something.
"I'm sending an officer to your room."
The line disconnected.
I stared at the picture.
A fourth message appeared.
YOUR FATHER DIDN'T DIE WHERE MARGARET TOLD YOU.
I typed before I could stop myself.
Who are you?
Three dots appeared.
Then vanished.
Then returned.
The response came.
ASK YOUR MOTHER ABOUT CABIN 17.
I stood slowly.
My father had owned a hunting cabin.
I had been there once as a child.
Its number was seventeen.
The property had supposedly burned down the year after he died.
I called Marcus again.
No answer.
Then Emily stirred.
"Daniel?"
I turned.
"I'm here."
She looked at the phone.
"What happened?"
Before I could answer, someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
I expected the officer Marcus had promised.
I opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
A white envelope lay on the floor.
My name was written across it.
I picked it up.
Inside was a brass key.
A small metal tag hung from the ring.
CABIN 17.
And beneath it was a handwritten note.
HE LEFT SOMETHING THERE FOR YOU.
I looked toward the empty hallway.
Then the elevator doors opened.
A woman stepped out.
She stared directly at me.
And whispered:
"Daniel Mercer?"
May you like
I didn't recognize her.
But she wore the same silver bracelet we had found beside the shed.
