Chapter 8 - Noah Was Still Going There
Noah turned out to be seven years old.
He was the son of Ryan's cousin Melissa.
I had met him twice.
Quiet kid. Brown hair. Always wore long sleeves, even in warm rooms.
By eight in the morning, CPS was at Melissa's apartment.
By eight-fifteen, Melissa was calling me.
"What did you tell them?"
Not Is Lily okay?
Not What happened?
What did you tell them?
The Walker family had a script for everything.
"I told them what Lily said."
"Noah loves Aunt Diane."
"Does he?"
"He's shy."
"Does she lock him in a room?"
Silence.
"Melissa."
"It's not a lock. It's a latch."
I closed my eyes.
"You knew."
"It's a time-out room."
"Does he go in willingly?"
"Megan, don't do this to us."
There it was again.
As if telling the truth were the injury.
"I'm not doing anything to you."
"Mom is already calling everyone. Diane says you're trying to destroy the family because Ryan wants a divorce."
I actually smiled.
"Ryan hasn't asked me for a divorce."
"He will."
She hung up.
Twenty minutes later, Nora returned.
"Melissa denied physical abuse."
"Of course she did."
"But Noah agreed to speak with the interviewer."
I waited.
"He described being struck on the legs with a wooden spoon."
My hands curled into fists.
"Anything else?"
Nora hesitated.
"He described a camera."
"What camera?"
"Inside the quiet room."
I stared at her.
"Why would Diane put a camera in a punishment room?"
"We don't know."
I knew only one thing.
A person who loses control doesn't install surveillance beforehand.
A person who plans control does.
By noon, police had obtained consent from Frank Walker's former property records and a warrant request was moving through the court.
Diane's attorney fought it.
Then Noah said one sentence that changed the urgency.
There are videos of everybody.
At 1:42 p.m., detectives entered Diane's house.
I wasn't allowed inside.
I waited in my car across the street with Claire on speakerphone.
"If they find the room, photograph everything," she said.
"I'm not the police."
"Then make sure the police don't let Ryan's family explain it away."
Forty minutes later, Officer Patel walked out carrying a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a small black camera.
Then another officer emerged with a plastic storage box full of labeled memory cards.
Some labels were dates.
Some were names.
ETHAN.
NOAH.
LILY.
My stomach turned.
Then Patel stopped beside my car.
Her face was different now.
"Megan, they found something else."
"What?"
"A card labeled ANNA."
"Anna died before home cameras like that were common."
"It's not a camera card."
She held up another evidence bag.
Inside was a tiny cassette tape.
On the label, in faded handwriting, were three words.
ANNA - LAST NIGHT.
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