Chapter 4 - The Death That Wasn’t
Emily had told everyone Darren died.
Her family.
Her coworkers.
Eventually, even June.
Not because she wanted sympathy.
Because a victim advocate told her to disappear from his life before he disappeared her from the world.
Darren had violated probation.
Threatened Emily.
Broken into her apartment twice.
Then vanished before a hearing.
Police found his truck abandoned near the Ohio River.
Blood in the cab.
No body.
“He was declared dead five years later,” Emily said.
Detective Collins did not look impressed.
“Declared dead is not the same as dead.”
“I know.”
“Did you receive life insurance?”
“No.”
“Benefits?”
“No.”
“Anything financial?”
“No.”
“Then why keep telling people he was dead?”
Emily’s voice cracked.
“Because June slept better.”
That silenced the room.
June stared at the floor.
I hated that she was hearing this.
Collins asked Emily to step outside.
June immediately grabbed my sleeve.
“Stay.”
I stayed.
Ten minutes later, Collins came back alone.
“Emily is going to the station to give a full statement.”
June looked frightened.
“Is Mom in trouble?”
“No.”
It was mostly true.
Then Collins turned to me.
“You need to come too.”
“Why?”
“Because the person following June may have selected your location deliberately.”
I stared at her.
“You think smashing my bike wasn’t random?”
“No. June chose you. But someone may have known she would.”
“That makes no sense.”
Collins pulled up a traffic camera still.
The sedan that picked up the man in the blue hat.
A gray Buick.
License plate partially visible.
She zoomed in.
My stomach tightened.
I knew that car.
It had been parked across from my shop three times in the last two weeks.
“You’ve seen it.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Outside Mercer Motor Works.”
Collins wrote it down.
“Anyone contact you recently?”
“No.”
“Threats?”
“No.”
“Old enemies?”
“I repair motorcycles. Everybody thinks their invoice is personal.”
She did not smile.
Then another officer entered carrying a tablet.
“We got coffee shop footage.”
Collins played it.
The man in the blue hat had stood across the street for eleven minutes.
At 2:14, June entered the frame.
At 2:15, she picked up the brick.
At 2:16, she smashed my headlight.
Then the footage showed something I had not seen.
Before June struck the bike, the man lifted his phone.
Not toward June.
May you like
Toward me inside the coffee shop.
He photographed me first.
