Chapter 2 - The Woman from Twelve Years Ago
Her name was Emily Carter.
I remembered it only after she said her husband’s name.
Darren Pike.
Twelve years earlier, Darren had been a mechanic at a freight yard where I occasionally repaired fleet bikes for private security contractors.
One night, I saw him beating a younger employee behind a loading bay after an argument over missing cash.
I testified.
Darren took a plea deal.
Eighteen months.
Anger management.
Probation.
Then I forgot him.
People like me get to forget courtrooms after we walk out of them.
People like Emily do not.
“You were married to him?” I asked.
“We were separated.”
Ramirez looked between us.
“Is Darren June’s father?”
Emily’s expression tightened.
“No.”
June looked up.
“Mom?”
Emily stroked her hair.
“No, honey.”
That answer seemed rehearsed.
The kind adults prepare because the real answer is worse.
Ramirez asked, “Could Darren be the man following her?”
Emily shook her head too quickly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Darren is dead.”
Silence.
“When?” I asked.
“Seven years ago.”
June was seven.
I noticed.
So did Ramirez.
Emily saw us notice.
“He died before June was born.”
That did not line up either.
She gripped her daughter tighter.
“I need to take her home.”
Ramirez said, “Not yet.”
“I’m her mother.”
“And someone followed your daughter for three days.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“I’ll keep her safe.”
“You didn’t know she was being followed.”
That landed.
Emily looked at June.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
June started crying again.
“You were tired.”
Emily’s face broke.
“I’m never too tired for you.”
“You fell asleep in your scrubs.”
I looked away.
There are moments strangers should not watch.
Ramirez asked if they could go somewhere private.
The coffee shop owner offered the back office.
Emily started toward it, then stopped beside me.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t owe me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
Her eyes dropped to the broken headlight outside.
“I’ll pay for that.”
I looked at June.
“She already did.”
Emily frowned.
I nodded toward the girl.
“She made sure somebody stayed.”
For the first time, Emily almost smiled.
Then her phone buzzed.
She looked at the screen.
Every bit of color left her face.
Ramirez noticed.
“Who is it?”
Emily did not answer.
He held out his hand.
She showed him the message.
I saw it too.
A photograph.
June standing beside my Harley twenty minutes earlier.
Taken from across the street.
May you like
Under the photograph were seven words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT HER OUT OF THIS.
