Chapter 3: The Man Who Wasn't There
Jason's name shouldn't have been in any police database except the one holding his death certificate.
He had died in a highway accident three years earlier.
I was the one who identified him.
I had held his wallet in my hand at the morgue and told the coroner, “That's my brother.””
There was no confusion.
No mystery.
Jason was dead.
Yet the arrest record said:
JASON CARTER.
Age thirty-four.
Height six feet one.
Brown hair.
Tattoo on left forearm.
Everything matched the brother I'd buried.
Except the man they had arrested was alive.
Maya drove me back to the county courthouse the next morning.
“Don't say anything,” she told me.
“I wasn't planning to.””
“You're about to meet someone.””
“Who?””
“The man using your brother's identity.””
The holding cell door opened.
A man stepped out.
He was taller than me.
Thinner.
He had Jason's tattoo.
A black compass on his forearm.
My stomach turned.
The man smiled.
“Daniel.””
I froze.
Nobody had called me by my first name with that expression in years.
“Who are you?””
He chuckled.
“That's funny.””
Maya stepped between us.
“Mr. Carter, this is Noah Reed.””
The stranger's smile disappeared.
“You know what they call me?””
I stared at him.
“No.””
“Jason.””
The hallway suddenly felt too small.
“Why?””
He shrugged.
“Because that's who I was paid to be.””
“Paid by who?””
His eyes flicked toward Maya.
She said, “We don't have much time.””
Noah looked at me again.
“Your wife.””
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because the alternative was breaking down.
“You're lying.””
“Am I?””
“You don't know Sarah.””
“I know what she paid me.””
“How much?””
“Twenty thousand.””
“To do what?””
He leaned closer.
“To make sure your daughter never told the truth.””
My blood turned cold.
I grabbed his shirt.
The deputy shouted.
“Back up!””
Maya pulled my arm away.
Noah wasn't fighting.
He was almost enjoying it.
“What truth?””
He looked at me.
“Ask Sarah about the night your house caught fire.””
My breath stopped.
There had never been a house fire.
At least not one in our home.
But there had been smoke.
Three months before my arrest, our detached garage had caught fire.
Sarah had said a faulty outlet caused it.
The fire department report agreed.
Or I thought it did.
Noah smiled.
“Still don't remember?””
“I remember.””
“No, you don't.””
Maya stepped closer.
“What happened that night, Noah?””
He shook his head.
“I wasn't there.””
“Then how do you know?””
“Because I saw the video.””
“What video?””
He glanced toward the security camera above the hall.
“The one your wife thought she deleted.””
I stared at Maya.
She had gone completely still.
“Where is it?””
Noah laughed.
“You won't find it.””
“Why?””
“Because Sarah sent it somewhere safe.””
“Where?””
He leaned close enough for me to smell the stale coffee on his breath.
“Inside Emily's stuffed rabbit.””
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Emily had a stuffed rabbit.
A white one.
Missing an ear.
I'd bought it for her when she was two.
She slept with it every night.
“Where is it now?”” I asked.
Noah said nothing.
Maya grabbed his shoulder.
“Answer him.””
“He doesn't have it.””
“Who does?””
Noah looked toward the courtroom.
Then back at us.
“The person who took your daughter after midnight.””
I could barely hear him.
“Emily wasn't taken.””
He smiled sadly.
“You still don't know.””
That evening, Maya obtained temporary access to the child welfare records.
One line stopped us cold.
*Protective relocation initiated at 12:16 a.m.*
Maya looked at me.
“Did Sarah ever tell you Emily was moved?””
“No.””
“Then where is your daughter?””
We found out through a court filing.
A private residential facility outside the county.
No public address.
No visitors without approval.
I demanded a hearing.
The judge granted one.
Sarah appeared.
She looked exhausted.
I stared at her across the courtroom.
“Where is Emily?””
“She's safe.””
“Where?””
“I can't tell you.””
“Why?””
“Because she's afraid of you.””
I stood.
“She isn't afraid of me.””
Sarah's lawyer objected.
Judge Reynolds told me to sit.
I did.
But then Sarah said something that changed the air in the room.
“Emily told me she saw Daddy kill someone.””
My skin went numb.
“Who?””
Sarah swallowed.
“My brother.””
Jason.
The judge ordered a recess.
Outside the courtroom, Maya grabbed my arm.
“Daniel.””
“What?””
“The dates.””
“What dates?””
“The night Jason died and the night Sarah says Emily saw you kill him.””
She handed me the case file.
I read the first date.
Then the second.
They were three years apart.
I looked at her.
“That isn't possible.””
Maya shook her head.
“Exactly.””
And then a court clerk came running toward us with a sealed envelope.
“Mr. Carter?””
“Yes.””
“This was just delivered for you.””
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Emily was sitting on a bed.
Her stuffed rabbit rested beside her.
On the wall behind her was a digital clock.
The time read 12:16.
May you like
Written across the bottom of the photograph were seven words:
*Ask your wife who was in the room.*
