Chapter 4: The Woman in the Photograph
The knocking came again, three sharp blows that seemed to shake the walls.
Darius grabbed my wrist.
“Evelyn, whatever happens, don't tell them about the receipt.””
I pulled away.
“You just told me someone investigated my mother's death. My mother is alive. What death are you talking about?””
His eyes darted toward the hallway.
“Please. Just let me speak first.””
“No.””
For the first time in my life, I looked at my father and felt no desire to comfort him.
I wanted answers.
I followed him downstairs, keeping several steps between us. When he opened the front door, two uniformed officers stood on the porch. A third person, a woman in a dark blazer, waited behind them with a folder tucked under her arm.
“Mr. Cole?”” the taller officer asked.
Darius straightened his shirt.
“Yes.””
“I'm Detective Sarah Mitchell. This is Officer Grant and Officer Lewis. We'd like to ask you some questions about an investigation reopened last week.””
“An investigation into what?””
Detective Mitchell glanced at me.
“May we come inside?””
Darius hesitated.
I stepped forward.
“I'm his daughter. Whatever you need to discuss, you can say it in front of me.””
My father shot me a warning look.
The detective noticed.
“Are you Evelyn Bennett?””
“Yes.””
She opened her folder.
“Then I believe you have a right to hear some of this.””
Darius moved toward the sofa, but Detective Mitchell remained standing.
“Twenty years ago, officers responded to a domestic disturbance at a residence where you and your former wife, Linda Cole, lived,” she began.
“During that response, officers documented injuries to Ms. Cole and collected evidence relating to a separate financial investigation.””
Darius crossed his arms.
“That matter was closed.””
“Some aspects were. Others were never fully resolved.””
“What does this have to do with me now?””
“Last month, a financial institution reported suspicious activity involving an account connected to an individual named Robert Hayes. During the review, investigators discovered a reference to the original case.””
I remembered my mother's words.
Robert Hayes. The investigator who had visited her after my father disappeared.
“Is Robert Hayes alive?”” I asked.
Detective Mitchell looked at me carefully.
“He died seven years ago.””
Darius exhaled, almost imperceptibly.
“But before his death,” she continued, “he transferred a collection of personal records to a family member. One of those records included a statement concerning your family.””
“What statement?”” I asked.
The detective closed the folder.
“That's what we're trying to establish.””
Darius let out a short laugh.
“So you came here to ask questions based on a dead man's paperwork?””
“We came because your name appears in an incident report, a financial ledger, and a statement that suggests evidence was withheld.””
My father turned toward me.
“Evelyn, you see what he's doing? Marcus has been feeding people stories about me.””
Detective Mitchell's expression hardened.
“Mr. Cole, we haven't mentioned Marcus Bennett.””
The silence was immediate.
Darius looked down.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Why did you bring up Marcus?”” I asked.
He didn't answer.
The detective took a folded sheet from her folder.
“Mr. Cole, did you receive thirty thousand dollars from Marcus Bennett six weeks ago?””
Darius rubbed his jaw.
“It was a private loan.””
“Did you tell him the money was for legal fees?””
“Yes.””
“Did you tell him that you needed additional funds to prevent the release of documents concerning your former wife?””
My father looked at me.
“This is ridiculous.””
“Did you?””
“No.””
Detective Mitchell made a note.
“Then perhaps you can explain why a message recovered from a financial dispute contains the phrase, 'If Evelyn finds the old report, everything falls apart.''”
I stared at him.
“What?””
Darius stepped toward me.
“Evelyn, that message has been taken out of context.””
“Did you write it?””
He said nothing.
I turned back to the detective.
“Can I see the original report?””
“Not tonight. We need to verify which documents can be released. But I can tell you that the file contains a reference to a second woman who was present at the property that evening.””
I remembered Darius's words.
Twenty years ago, there was another woman in that house.
“Who was she?”” I asked.
The detective glanced at Darius.
“Her identity is part of the unresolved investigation.””
My father suddenly moved toward the door.
“I've answered enough questions.””
“Mr. Cole,” Detective Mitchell said, “we haven't finished.””
“Then call my lawyer.””
“You're not under arrest. We're asking you to cooperate voluntarily.””
“Then I'm voluntarily declining.””
He opened the door.
The officers left after arranging another interview. Detective Mitchell lingered on the porch.
Before she stepped away, she handed me a card.
“If you find any documents relating to Robert Hayes or the October 14 incident, please contact me. Don't alter them, and don't let anyone pressure you into destroying them.””
I took the card.
“Detective, is my mother in danger?””
“I don't have evidence of an immediate threat to her,” she replied.
“But if you feel unsafe, call us.””
Then she looked past me toward Darius.
“And Ms. Bennett? Sometimes the person who tells you a secret first isn't the person who wants you to know the truth.””
After she left, my father slammed the door.
“You had no right to let them question me in my own daughter's house!””
I recoiled.
“My house is my mother's house.””
He stared at me.
Then he laughed bitterly.
“Of course. Your mother. Everything always comes back to her.””
“You said there was another woman in our house. Who was she?””
“Someone from my past.””
“Someone who was there when the police came?””
He walked to the sofa and poured himself a glass of water with shaking hands.
“You're too young to understand what happened.””
“I'm twenty-nine.””
“And you're about to make a terrible mistake.””
I folded my arms.
“Is that a threat?””
He set the glass down so hard that water splashed onto the table.
“No. It's a warning. Marcus is using you to get to me.””
“Why would Marcus need to get to you?””
“Because he knows what happened to that woman.””
I couldn't breathe for a moment.
“What woman?””
Darius looked toward the staircase.
Then he said, “Your mother wasn't the only woman I loved before I disappeared.””
The confession was so unexpected that I forgot to speak.
He rubbed his face.
“There was a woman named Rebecca. She worked with me when I was building my first business. We were close. Too close, according to your mother.””
“Were you having an affair?””
He didn't answer directly.
“Your mother found out about Rebecca shortly before the police came. She was furious. We argued.
The house was a mess. But Rebecca wasn't there that night.””
“Then why does the police report mention another woman?””
“Because somebody wanted to make it look as if something happened that didn't.””
I stepped closer.
“Who wanted that?””
He looked at me with a mixture of sorrow and irritation.
“That's what I've been trying to protect you from.””
I almost laughed.
“You've been protecting me by lying?””
“I was protecting you from the truth about your mother.””
My stomach twisted.
“What did she do?””
He opened his mouth.
Then he stopped.
His eyes shifted toward the dining room, where my mother's old photo albums sat on a shelf.
He walked over, pulled one out, and flipped through it until he found a picture of my parents standing beside a woman with dark hair and a silver necklace.
He held it out to me.
“That's Rebecca.””
The woman looked to be in her early thirties. She had a warm smile and one hand resting on my mother's shoulder.
I frowned.
“Why is she standing with Mom?””
“Because they were friends before everything went wrong.””
I examined the photograph.
Something about the woman's face felt familiar, though I couldn't explain why.
Then I noticed the necklace.
A silver chain with a small crescent-shaped pendant.
My fingers tightened around the picture.
I had seen that necklace before.
Not in an old photograph.
Not in a memory.
In my bedroom, on the nightstand, in the jewelry box my mother had given me when I turned eighteen.
I had always believed the necklace belonged to my grandmother.
I looked up at Darius.
“Why do I have Rebecca's necklace?””
His face went completely still.
For several seconds, he seemed unable to hear me.
Then he reached for the photograph.
“Where did you get that necklace?””
“My mother gave it to me.””
“When?””
“When I turned eighteen.””
He took a step backward.
“No,” he whispered.
“That's impossible.””
“Why?””
May you like
He looked at the photograph again, and his voice broke.
“Because Rebecca was wearing that necklace the night she disappeared.””
