Chapter 8 - THE RED CAR
Emmie had drawn the red car for months after Laura died.
Nobody had understood why.
A red sedan.
Always near Laura's blue SUV.
Sometimes behind it.
Sometimes beside it.
Once, Emmie had drawn the red car with a black X across the windshield.
Ethan had assumed it was grief.
Now Detective Hale asked the question Ethan wished he had asked a year earlier.
“Was Emmie with Laura the day of the crash?”
“No.”
“Did she see anything before it?”
Ethan thought.
Then remembered.
“The morning Laura died, Emmie was outside waiting for the school bus.”
“What time did Laura leave?”
“About 7:20.”
“Could Emmie have seen something?”
“Yes.”
They drove back to the hospital.
Emmie was sitting up now, drinking apple juice through a straw.
Ethan sat beside her.
“Sweetheart, I need to ask you something about Mom.”
She stopped drinking.
“You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”
Emmie stared at the blanket.
“The red car?”
Ethan felt his throat tighten.
“Yes.”
She nodded.
Detective Hale remained near the doorway.
“What did you see?”
Emmie took a long breath.
“The man was under Mom's car.”
Ethan went still.
“What man?”
“The one from the picture.”
Daniel Voss.
Hale stepped forward.
“Are you sure?”
“He had the red car.”
Ethan's chest started hurting.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I did.”
“No, sweetheart.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“I told you the red car man touched Mom's car.”
A memory hit Ethan.
Emmie, eight years old, crying after the funeral.
The red car man touched Mommy's car.
Ethan had thought she meant another vehicle had been involved.
Police had told him grief confused children.
He had accepted that explanation because he was drowning too.
“Oh God.”
He covered his mouth.
Emmie reached for him.
“Dad?”
He took her hand.
“I should've listened.”
Detective Hale's phone rang.
He stepped into the hall.
When he came back, his face was grim.
“What?”
“The boy found in Vivian's basement has been identified.”
“Who is he?”
“Caleb Monroe. Six years old.”
“Was he missing?”
“For eighteen hours.”
Ethan looked stunned.
“His parents?”
“His mother reported him missing last night.”
“Why was Vivian holding him?”
“We're working on that.”
Hale hesitated.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Caleb's father died six months ago.”
Ethan waited.
“Car accident.”
Silence.
Hale continued.
“Brake failure.”
Ethan's blood turned cold.
One coincidence was painful.
Two was a pattern.
Before he could respond, Emmie's hospital television suddenly flickered.
The cartoon disappeared.
A black screen appeared.
Then white text.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE CHAIN ALONE.
Ethan shot to his feet.
The message vanished.
The cartoon returned.
Emmie whispered:
May you like
“He knows where we are.”
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