Chapter 7 - Brooke’s Perfect Story
Brooke hired a lawyer before lunch.
By two o’clock, she had a new story.
She claimed Evan had manipulated her. Claimed he had stolen Dad’s money, attacked me, forced her to help move the car, and threatened to kill Mom if Brooke went to the police.
It would have been almost believable if she had not spent the morning lying to my face.
Her attorney demanded that officers stop questioning her.
Detective Reed came back to my room with a paper cup of coffee and a tired expression.
“She says she tried to protect you,” he told me.
I laughed once.
It hurt so badly I stopped.
“She said she found you unconscious after Evan attacked you. She says your memory may be unreliable because of the head injury.”
That made me furious enough to sit upright.
“Liar.”
My voice barely carried, but Reed heard it.
“I know.”
“How?”
He set his coffee down.
“Because your neighbor’s camera also caught Brooke leaving your house at 12:18 a.m. She was carrying a duffel bag. Evan followed three minutes later dragging something wrapped in a tarp.”
Dad.
I grabbed the blanket.
“Alive?”
“We don’t know.”
Mom turned away.
Reed continued. “At 12:44, your car appears on traffic camera footage heading toward Riverside storage. Evan is driving. Brooke is in the passenger seat.”
“So why am I here?” I asked.
“You were found at 3:07 a.m. near County Road 18, six miles from the storage complex. A truck driver saw you crawling out of a drainage ditch.”
I remembered mud under my nails.
Cold rain.
A voice behind me.
Run, Claire.
Not Brooke’s voice.
Dad’s.
I closed my eyes.
“He helped me.”
Reed leaned closer. “Your father?”
“I think.”
Mom suddenly said, “There’s a place.”
We both looked at her.
She took a breath.
“Daniel had an old storage unit under a company name. Not Riverside. Another one across town. He kept emergency files there.”
Reed stood. “What company name?”
Mom hesitated.
Before she could answer, her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered on speaker.
For two seconds, there was only static.
Then my father’s voice said, weak and breathless:
“Evelyn, don’t tell them where I am.”
A second voice came through the line.
May you like
Evan.
“Too late.”
