Chapter 10 - SOMEONE ELSE WAS WATCHING US
Grant was in police custody.
Which meant Grant hadn’t taken the photograph three days earlier.
Officer Ramirez sealed the box.
“Does anyone else have access to this storage unit?”
Mom shook her head.
“Only me.”
“Grant?”
“He shouldn’t.”
“Anyone from Hawthorne?”
“I don’t know.”
William arrived before sunrise.
Caroline was with him.
When Ramirez showed them one of the photographs, William’s face changed.
“That’s not Grant’s handwriting.”
I looked at him.
“You know his handwriting?”
“Twenty years of signatures.”
Caroline examined the photograph.
“I’ve seen this handwriting.”
William turned.
“Where?”
“Internal documents.”
Her face went pale.
“Years ago.”
“Whose?”
She hesitated.
“Peter Walsh.”
William’s chief financial officer.
The man who had sat three chairs away from Grant during dinner.
The man who had left without saying a word after Sophie nodded.
William called him immediately.
No answer.
Caroline tried.
Straight to voicemail.
William swore.
I remembered Peter.
Gray hair.
Red tie.
He had barely spoken.
But when I dropped the medicine onto the table, he hadn’t looked shocked.
He had looked annoyed.
“Was he involved with East Riverton?” Ramirez asked.
William nodded slowly.
“He approved subcontractor payments.”
Mom stared at him.
“All of them?”
“Most.”
Caroline’s eyes widened.
“Grant wasn’t high enough in the company to approve those transfers by himself.”
William looked sick.
“So Peter had to know.”
Ramirez immediately called another unit.
Then William’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A distorted voice came through the speaker.
“You should’ve taken the promotion dinner for what it was.”
William looked around.
“Who is this?”
“You reopened something that was buried.”
“Peter?”
The caller laughed.
Then said, “Ask the Carter girl where her sister is.”
My blood froze.
I turned.
Sophie had been beside me.
Now she wasn’t.
“Sophie?”
Mom spun around.
“Sophie!”
We searched the storage unit.
Nothing.
Outside.
Nothing.
Ramirez ran toward the parking lot.
Then we saw the side door swinging.
A child’s pink hair clip lay on the pavement.
My mother screamed.
I ran toward it.
Ramirez grabbed me.
“No!”
A black sedan disappeared around the corner.
William stared after it.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
BRING THE MEMORY CARD.
May you like
COME ALONE.
OR YOUR SISTER DOESN’T COME HOME.
