Chapter 9: The Welfare Check
Two officers arrived at eight the next morning.
Ryan opened the door before they knocked.
He'd been awake since Patricia's call.
"Mr.
Callahan?
We have a request for a welfare check on a Diane Callahan, believed to be at this address."
"She's here," Ryan said.
"She's my sister.
She came here voluntarily.
Please come in."
He stepped back.
The officers — a man and a woman, both professional, both watching everything — came into the hallway.
Diane was already at the kitchen table.
She'd been up since six.
She was dressed, her hair combed, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.
She looked, Ryan thought, like someone who had decided to be seen clearly.
"Ma'am, are you Diane Callahan?"
"Yes."
"Are you here of your own free will?"
"Yes."
"Has anyone prevented you from leaving or contacting anyone?"
"No." She looked at the officer steadily.
"I came here three weeks ago because I was fleeing a man named Marcus Hale.
I hid initially because I was frightened of what he would do to my brother's family if he knew I was here.
I have since given a statement to your county sheriff's office and spoken with Detective Aaron Briggs of Pittsburgh PD's financial crimes unit." She reached across the table and picked up a piece of paper.
"This is Patricia Osei's contact information.
She is my attorney.
She was informed of this welfare check last night and is available to speak with your supervising officer if needed."
The female officer took the paper.
Read it.
"You understand that the person who requested this check expressed concern that you were being held involuntarily."
"I understand that Marcus Hale filed this request as a pressure tactic," Diane said.
"I also understand that you're doing your job, and I'm not going to make that harder than it needs to be."
A pause.
"Is there anything you need, ma'am?
Any assistance we can offer?"
"No.
Thank you for coming."
After they left, Diane set her mug down.
Her hands were shaking slightly.
She pressed them flat on the table until they stopped.
"You were incredible," Caroline said from the doorway.
"I practiced it at five in the morning," Diane said.
"In the bathroom mirror."
Ryan sat down across from her.
"He's trying to make us look like the problem."
"Yes.
And it didn't work." She looked at him.
"Ryan, I need to tell you something.
About why I didn't come to you sooner.
Not three weeks ago — I mean years ago.
Before everything got this bad."
"You don't have to—"
"I do." She looked at her hands.
"I was ashamed.
I kept thinking I should be able to handle it.
That if I told you, you'd look at me differently.
You'd see someone who had let this happen to her." She looked up.
"I know that's not rational."
"It's not about rational," Ryan said.
"I know.
But I need you to understand that I didn't stay silent because I didn't trust you.
I stayed silent because I didn't trust myself.
I thought I'd lost my own judgment so completely that I couldn't tell anymore what was real and what he'd put in my head." She paused.
"He's very good at that.
Making you doubt your own memory of events."
Ryan reached across and put his hand over hers.
"I know you now," he said.
"I know you're real.
That's enough."
Caroline came and sat beside Diane.
The three of them sat quietly for a moment.
Then Ryan's phone buzzed.
A text from Briggs.
May you like
*We executed the warrant on the storage unit this morning.
You'll want to call me.*
