Chapter 6 - LOCKER 814
Central Station had been renovated twice since Lorelei’s death.
Locker 814 no longer existed.
At least that was what the station manager claimed.
Maya disagreed.
“Numbers changed during the 2012 renovation.”
She spread old blueprints across a security desk.
“Original lockers were moved into basement storage.”
The sheriff obtained emergency access.
They found locker 814 at 2:17 a.m.
Its door was rusted.
Rosalie’s key did not fit.
The locker receipt contained a combination.
31-7-11.
Rosalie stared at the numbers.
“My birthday.”
July 11.
The lock opened.
Inside sat a red leather ledger wrapped in plastic.
A disposable camera.
A small tape recorder.
And a child’s bracelet.
Rosalie recognized the bracelet immediately.
She stumbled backward.
Manuel caught her.
“What is it?”
“I was wearing that the night my mother died.”
Catherine covered her mouth.
Rosalie lifted it carefully.
One side was stained dark brown.
Old blood.
Maya examined the recorder.
“Don’t touch anything else.”
A deputy photographed the contents.
The sheriff called an evidence team.
Rosalie stared at the bracelet.
“Why would my mother put this here?”
Nobody answered.
Then Catherine spoke.
“She didn’t.”
Everyone turned.
Catherine was crying.
“Lorelei never reached Central Station.”
Rosalie stared at her.
“What?”
“I told you I saw them leave together.”
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t tell you everything.”
Catherine sat down.
“Emmett came back alone.”
Rosalie’s face hardened.
“Where was I?”
Catherine couldn’t look at her.
“With him.”
Silence.
“I saw you in the back seat.”
Rosalie stopped moving.
“You were unconscious.”
Manuel felt her fingers go numb inside his hand.
Catherine continued.
“Emmett carried you upstairs.”
“Your wrists were bleeding.”
“He told me you had tried to hurt yourself.”
“I believed him because I needed to.”
Rosalie’s voice cracked.
“And my mother?”
“I never saw her again.”
Maya looked at the locker.
“If Lorelei never reached this place, someone else hid the evidence.”
The disposable camera was developed under sheriff supervision.
Twenty-seven photographs.
Invoices.
Bank statements.
A warehouse.
Daniel Mercer speaking with Lorelei.
Then photograph twenty-six.
Lorelei stood beside a car.
Emmett was behind her.
Photograph twenty-seven showed something lying in the trunk.
A human hand.
Rosalie turned away.
The room became silent.
The sheriff looked at Maya.
“Who took these pictures?”
Maya pointed to the final image.
In the reflection of the car window was a man holding the camera.
Thin.
Young.
Wearing glasses.
Rosalie recognized him.
“No.”
Manuel looked at her.
“Who?”
May you like
She whispered the name.
“Dr. Voss.”
