Chapter 5: Someone Else Knew
I showed the text to Detective Marsh that afternoon.
She read it.
Read it again.
Then she looked up.
"Have you received anything else from this number?"
"No.
That was the first."
"Don't delete it.
Don't respond." She handed my phone back.
"Do you have any idea who else might have known about Lily's situation?
Anyone your mother-in-law was close to?
A friend, a neighbor, someone she trusted?"
I thought about it.
"There's a woman she plays cards with.
Margaret.
I don't know her last name.
And the family next door — Noah's family.
The Hendersons."
Marsh wrote both down.
"Anyone else?"
Ryan spoke from the corner of the room.
He'd been quiet for the last hour.
"Her brother.
Uncle Gerald.
He lives about forty minutes out.
They talk on the phone every week."
Marsh looked up.
"How close are they?"
"Close enough that she calls him before she calls me." Ryan's voice was flat.
"He was at our house for Christmas.
He spent time with Lily."
The room went very still.
"Define spent time," Marsh said.
"He's seventy-two years old," Ryan said.
But his voice had changed.
Like he was hearing himself say the words and not quite believing them.
"Mr.
Callahan.
Define spent time."
Ryan stood up.
He walked to the window.
"He babysat once.
Last spring.
Diane asked us if Gerald could watch Lily for an afternoon while she had a dental appointment.
We said yes."
I felt the floor tilt slightly.
"We said yes," he said again.
Quieter this time.
Marsh was already reaching for her phone.
She stepped into the hallway.
I could hear her voice through the door, low and quick, but not the words.
I looked at Ryan.
"It might be nothing," I said.
He didn't answer.
"Ryan.
It might be nothing."
"The text came from someone," he said.
"Someone who knew enough to be worried.
Someone who thought warning you would make you back off." He turned from the window.
"That's not nothing."
Lily was in with the forensic interviewer — a specialist named Dr.
Okafor who had a quiet office down the hall with beanbag chairs and a sand tray and boxes of colored pencils.
She had been in there for forty minutes.
I was counting.
Marsh came back in.
"We're going to bring Gerald Marsh in for a conversation," she said.
"Voluntarily, at this stage."
"His last name is also Marsh?" I asked.
She paused.
"No.
Gerald Haynes.
I misspoke." She looked at her notes.
"Diane's maiden name was Haynes.
Gerald Haynes is her brother."
"Does he know about the box?" Ryan asked.
"We don't know yet." Marsh sat down.
"Mrs.
Callahan, I want to prepare you for something.
The forensic interview with Lily may take more than one session.
Dr.
Okafor will go at Lily's pace.
That's the right way to do it, but it means we may not have a complete picture today."
"I understand."
"What I can tell you is that the prepaid phone has already given us something." She paused.
"There were messages between that phone and one other number.
Short messages.
Mostly dates and times."
"Scheduling," Ryan said.
"That's what it looks like."
"Scheduling what?"
Marsh looked at him steadily.
"We believe the children were brought to the house on specific days.
Not randomly.
There was a pattern."
Ryan sat back down.
He put both hands flat on his knees and stared at the floor.
"Who owns the other number?" I asked.
"It's another prepaid.
We're tracing it." She closed her notebook.
"But whoever sent you that text this morning — they know the investigation has started.
Which means they're either going to go quiet, or they're going to do something to protect themselves."
She stood to leave.
"Lock your doors tonight," she said.
"Both of you."
She was almost at the door when Ryan spoke.
"Detective." His voice was rough.
"My mother.
Where is she right now?"
"In custody," Marsh said.
"As of two hours ago."
Ryan nodded once.
He didn't look relieved.
He looked like a man who had just learned that the ground he'd been standing on for forty years was not solid.
Down the hall, the door to Dr.
Okafor's office opened.
Lily walked out holding a drawing she'd made.
She held it up when she saw me.
It was a house.
May you like
And in the yard, a little girl standing alone.
No one else in the picture.
