Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN IN THE RED CAR
Claire read Emma's message ten times before she allowed herself to answer.
Every instinct told her to ask what happened.
Every legal warning told her not to pull her daughter into an adult investigation.
She called Nora first.
Nora answered with a sleepy voice and became fully awake in under five seconds.
Rebecca's face in the traffic-camera still bothered Claire because it looked so ordinary.
There was no cinematic menace in it.
No obvious cruelty.
Just a woman holding coffee in a parking lot while Daniel passed her an envelope.
Claire had expected anyone involved in something terrible to look different from everyone else.
Instead, Rebecca looked like a parent waiting for school pickup.
Nora noticed Claire staring at the image.
"Most bad decisions are made by people who still look normal afterward."
Claire shut the folder.
That lesson would return repeatedly.
No one in the case wore a sign identifying the moment they crossed a line.
"Do not coach her."
"I know."
"Do not ask leading questions."
"I know."
"Screenshot everything."
Claire already had.
"What do I say?"
Nora was silent for a moment.
"Tell her you love her and that she should talk to a safe adult if she is scared."
Claire typed slowly.
I love you more than anything.
You do not have to figure this out by yourself.
If you feel unsafe, tell your teacher, counselor, Detective Ruiz, or another trusted grown-up.
I will not tell Dad you messaged me unless someone needs to act to keep you safe.
Emma replied with a heart.
Then nothing.
Claire sat awake for the rest of the night.
At 8:30 the next morning, Detective Ruiz met Nora and Claire at the police station.
Claire showed him the messages.
He read them without comment.
Then Nora told him about Emma's possible recording device.
Ruiz rubbed his jaw.
"Did Emma say she recorded anything?"
"No," Claire said.
"Then don't assume."
Claire stared at him.
"She said Dad is lying."
"Children can believe things that are wrong."
"So can adults."
Ruiz gave her a tired look.
"That's why I collect facts."
He turned his monitor toward them.
A still photograph showed Daniel in a parking lot beside a red sedan.
A blonde woman stood across from him.
Claire leaned forward.
"Who is that?"
"Her name is Rebecca Sloan."
The name meant nothing to Claire.
Ruiz clicked to another photograph.
Daniel handed Rebecca a small envelope.
"Where was this taken?"
"A coffee shop eight miles from your house."
"When?"
"Three days before the incident."
Claire looked at Ruiz.
"Why were you watching him?"
"We weren't."
"Then where did the picture come from?"
Ruiz hesitated.
"A traffic-camera inquiry related to the red car."
Nora caught the phrasing.
"Why were you inquiring about the red car?"
Ruiz opened another file.
A neighbor's doorbell camera showed the same red sedan driving slowly past the Morgan house twice on Friday evening.
"Because your neighbor remembered it after we asked for footage."
Claire's stomach tightened.
"Who is she?"
"A licensed behavioral health consultant."
Claire's face went blank.
"A therapist?"
"Not yours."
"Daniel's?"
"We don't know."
Ruiz had discovered Rebecca through the vehicle registration.
Her business specialized in crisis de-escalation and family risk assessments.
She had previously worked at the private clinic where Claire received medication management.
Claire sat back.
"She had access to my records."
"Possibly in the past."
"And Daniel met her three days before I lost seventeen minutes."
Ruiz nodded.
"That is why I asked you here."
Nora's voice sharpened.
"Have you spoken to Ms. Sloan?"
"She retained counsel this morning."
Claire looked from one to the other.
"People don't hire lawyers because of coffee."
Ruiz did not disagree.
Meanwhile, Daniel drove Emma to school and asked why she looked tired.
"Bad dream."
"About Mom?"
Emma stared out the window.
"No."
Daniel glanced at her.
"You can tell me."
"I don't remember."
Daniel smiled faintly.
"Runs in the family lately."
Emma turned toward him.
The joke landed wrong.
Daniel seemed to realize it too late.
"I'm sorry."
Emma said nothing.
At school, she went directly to Mrs. Patel.
She closed the counselor's door behind her.
"I have a recording."
Mrs. Patel did not react dramatically.
"A recording of what?"
"My dad talking to a lady."
"Where is it?"
"At home."
"What does it say?"
Emma's eyes filled.
"She said he promised I wouldn't be in danger."
Mrs. Patel immediately contacted the child-protection investigator.
By noon, Ruiz knew.
He called Daniel and asked permission for Emma to bring the tablet to the station.
Daniel's response was instant.
"What tablet?"
Ruiz noted the question.
"Emma says she has an old one."
"It doesn't work."
"Apparently it does."
Silence.
Then Daniel said he would check when he got home.
Ruiz ended the call and turned to his partner.
"He's going to destroy it."
They requested an emergency order preserving the device.
Daniel arrived at the house first.
He walked quickly upstairs.
Emma's room looked untouched.
He opened the closet.
Board games.
Shoes.
A stuffed rabbit.
No tablet.
His breathing changed.
He searched the desk.
Under the mattress.
Behind the dresser.
Nothing.
Then he saw the charger cable dangling behind the bed.
Daniel yanked it free.
The bedroom door opened.
Emma stood there with her backpack.
Daniel turned slowly.
"Where's the tablet?"
Emma's face went pale.
"What tablet?"
Daniel stared at her.
For the first time in her life, Emma saw her father decide whether to lie to her or frighten her.
He chose the lie.
"The old one Mom gave you."
"I don't know."
Daniel stepped closer.
"Emma."
She backed into the hallway.
"I said I don't know."
The doorbell rang.
Daniel froze.
Detective Ruiz stood outside with another officer and a signed order.
Emma exhaled so hard her knees weakened.
Ruiz entered and asked where the device was.
Emma reached into her backpack.
Daniel's expression collapsed.
She handed the tablet directly to the detective.
"I brought it to school."
Ruiz took it carefully.
Daniel stared at his daughter.
May you like
Emma looked back at him with tears in her eyes.
"You said I should always tell the truth."
