Chapter 6: The Secret Behind the Garage Door
Detective Mitchell didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
The moment she placed the photograph of Rebecca's arrest on my kitchen island, the room changed.
Ethan stopped pacing.
Margaret closed her portfolio.
Brooke sank into a chair, her face buried in her hands.
Daniel moved closer to me, but I barely noticed him.
I was staring at the woman in the photograph.
Rebecca Sloane.
The woman who had called me minutes earlier and warned me not to trust my husband.
The woman who had told me to go to the Northbridge storage facility before midnight.
The woman who now appeared to be in police custody.
"Where is she?"" I asked.
Detective Mitchell slid the photograph back into her folder.
"That depends on what you know.""
"She called me less than an hour ago.""
The detective's expression sharpened.
"What did she say?""
I told her about the call, the key, and the storage unit. I showed her the photograph of Rebecca holding the baby and the message about March 14.
When I finished, Detective Mitchell exchanged a glance with her partner.
"Did Rebecca tell you why Victor disappeared?""
"No.""
"Did she tell you where Victor might be?""
"No. She said someone was listening.""
Mitchell nodded slowly.
"That would be consistent with what we've uncovered.""
Ethan laughed nervously.
"This is absurd. Rebecca has been unstable since Victor vanished. She was desperate, and she made up stories to get money.""
The detective turned toward him.
"Mr. Bennett, did you transfer money to Westbridge Consulting?""
"I authorized a temporary transaction.""
"Did you know that account was used to finance Rebecca Sloane's travel?""
"No.""
"Did you meet her on March 14?""
Ethan glanced at Margaret.
"No.""
The detective placed a printed still from the garage recording on the counter.
It showed Ethan carrying the black duffel bag.
"Would you like to reconsider that answer?""
He stared at the image.
Then he sat down.
I had never seen him sit like that. His shoulders sagged, his hands hung between his knees, and he looked suddenly older than the forty-three years he'd always insisted were the beginning of his best decade.
"She asked me for help," he said.
"Rebecca?""
"Yes.""
"With what?""
"Getting out of the country.""
Detective Mitchell folded her hands.
"Why?""
Ethan rubbed his palms against his trousers.
"She believed Victor was going to be killed.""
"And did you believe her?""
He didn't answer.
Mitchell leaned forward.
"Mr. Bennett, we have evidence that someone used Victor Sloane's credentials to move company funds after his disappearance. We also have evidence that you accessed the restricted account from your home on March 14. If you know where Victor is, now would be an excellent time to tell us.""
"I don't know where he is.""
"Then tell me why you helped his wife disappear.""
Ethan looked at me.
"Because I thought it was the only way to keep Claire safe.""
I almost laughed.
"Safe from what?""
He stared at the table.
"Victor found out the project wasn't just losing money. Someone was using the development fund to pay off people who were supposed to be investigating the missing money.""
Margaret went rigid.
"Who?""
"I don't know all the names.""
"Who did you pay?""
"I didn't pay anyone!""
Detective Mitchell raised one hand.
"Let's take this one question at a time.""
She turned to me.
"Mrs. Bennett, I need to ask about your signature on the February authorization.""
I told her what Ethan had said about the mortgage paperwork.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she asked, "Do you have a copy of the documents you signed?""
"Possibly. Ethan keeps financial paperwork in his office.""
"May we search it?""
I looked at the office door.
"Yes.""
Ethan stood abruptly.
"No. You can't just go through my things.""
Detective Mitchell turned toward him.
"Then I suggest you stop giving us reasons to.""
Her partner accompanied her into the garage office while the detective remained with us.
I sat at the kitchen island, watching Ethan from across the room.
"Did you ever intend to tell me?"" I asked.
He looked exhausted.
"Yes.""
"When?""
"When I knew it was safe.""
"Safe for whom?""
He lowered his eyes.
I thought about the mortgage documents, the late-night calls, the business trips, and the months when he'd started keeping his phone facedown.
I remembered asking him once why he seemed distracted.
He had smiled, kissed my forehead, and told me work was stressful.
I'd believed him because believing him was easier than imagining the alternative.
Now I wondered how many other moments I'd mistaken for love when they were really opportunities for him to keep me uninformed.
"Was Brooke involved in the money?"" I asked.
Ethan hesitated.
"She helped move some documents.""
"Which documents?""
"The original contracts. Some account records.""
"And the birth certificate?""
He looked at Brooke.
She had stopped crying.
"I didn't know about the guardian designation," Ethan said.
"That's not what I asked.""
He swallowed.
"Brooke had the original birth certificate for a few days. She gave it to someone who was supposed to deliver it to Rebecca.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
Brooke lifted her head.
"That's a lie.""
Ethan stared at her.
She wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of my bathrobe.
"You told me you were sending it to Victor.""
"I never said that.""
"You said Victor needed proof of the child's identity so he could get her out.""
Ethan's expression hardened.
"You should stop talking.""
Brooke looked at Daniel.
"I thought I was helping a father protect his daughter. I didn't know the money was stolen. I didn't know Ethan had put Claire's name on the account.""
Daniel's face was unreadable.
"Did you know you were helping Ethan lie to Claire?""
Brooke closed her eyes.
"Yes.""
The admission was quiet.
It was also the first honest thing she'd said all afternoon.
Daniel took off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of a chair.
"I don't know what happens to us now," he said.
"But I know I can't go home with you tonight.""
Brooke reached for him.
He stepped away.
She lowered her hand.
From the garage came the sound of a drawer opening, followed by Detective Mitchell's partner calling her name.
The detective excused herself.
We heard the officers speaking in low voices beyond the glass partition.
Then Mitchell returned carrying a thin blue folder.
"Mr. Bennett," she said, "we found a document that may be relevant to the investigation.""
Ethan stared at the folder.
"What document?""
She placed it on the counter.
A transfer authorization.
Dated February 19.
The signature at the bottom was mine.
But the account information was unfamiliar.
Detective Mitchell pointed to the final page.
"This document authorizes the transfer of ownership of a storage unit lease at the Northbridge facility.""
I looked at the brass key.
"That's where Rebecca told me to go.""
"Correct.""
"Who owns the storage unit now?""
Mitchell looked at Ethan.
"He does.""
I turned toward my husband.
"You told me you'd never been there.""
He pressed his lips together.
Mitchell continued.
"We also found a second document. It's a guardianship declaration for Lily Sloane. It names Claire Bennett as the emergency guardian, but the signature appears to have been witnessed by someone using a false identity.""
"Who?"" I asked.
She turned the page.
The witness's name was listed beneath the signature.
*Margaret Hayes.*
I stared at her.
Margaret stepped backward.
"No.""
Detective Mitchell held up the page.
"Is this your signature?""
Margaret shook her head.
"That isn't possible. I've never signed a guardianship declaration.""
Ethan rose slowly from his chair.
"Margaret, tell them.""
She looked at him in disbelief.
"You know I didn't sign that.""
"I know you handled the documents.""
"I never saw this one!""
Detective Mitchell's expression remained calm.
"Then we'll need to establish who used your name.""
Margaret turned to me.
"Claire, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with this.""
I wanted to believe her.
But after the afternoon I'd had, belief no longer came naturally.
The detective gathered the documents.
"There's one more thing you should know. The storage unit was accessed yesterday evening.""
"By whom?""
"We're still identifying the person. But the access card was registered to your household.""
My blood ran cold.
"Who has access to it?""
Detective Mitchell looked at Ethan.
He stared at the floor.
"Mr. Bennett?""
Ethan's voice was barely audible.
"Only me.""
"Then why was the unit accessed yesterday?""
He didn't answer.
The detective closed her folder.
"We'll be taking statements from everyone here. Until we've established the facts, I strongly advise nobody visits that facility alone.""
I glanced at the brass key.
Rebecca had said to go before midnight.
The detective had just warned me not to go at all.
And someone had already been there yesterday.
When the officers stepped into the hallway to make a call, Ethan leaned toward me.
"Claire, you need to listen to me.""
I moved away.
"No more private conversations.""
"Please. The storage unit isn't what you think.""
"Then what is it?""
He looked toward the garage, where the black-and-white footage still waited on Margaret's laptop.
"It's where Victor kept the evidence.""
"Evidence against whom?""
Ethan's eyes filled with something that looked almost like regret.
"Against me.""
The words hung between us.
For the first time, he had admitted that he was part of the story instead of merely trapped inside it.
I picked up the brass key.
"Then we're going to find it.""
He grabbed my wrist.
"Claire, if you open that unit, you'll destroy everything we've built.""
I looked down at his hand until he released me.
Then I met his eyes.
"No, Ethan. You did that when you decided I was someone you could use.""
I walked away before he could answer.
At the front door, Detective Mitchell was speaking quietly into her phone.
I heard her say one sentence that made me stop.
"We have a new problem. The storage unit isn't empty.""
She listened.
Then she looked at me.
"Someone has left a message for Mrs. Bennett.""
My heart began pounding.
"What message?""
The detective lowered her phone.
"Your name is written on the door.""
May you like
She paused.
"And beneath it, someone has written: *ASK YOUR HUSBAND WHO THE BABY'S REAL FATHER IS.*"
