Detective Mercer didn't immediately explain.
He watched my face.
Then Tyler's.
Finally, he pointed to the photograph.
"The SUV was there before your husband's crew arrived."
"How long?"
"We're still establishing that."
"Who was driving?"
"We don't know."
"Then why is it important?"
Mercer looked at Tyler.
"Because the same vehicle appears on a traffic camera several miles from the hospital."
My mouth went dry.
"When?"
"After you left the station."
Tyler looked at me.
"So someone followed her."
"Possibly."
"That's not good enough," Tyler said.
Mercer remained calm.
"We're not guessing. We're matching timestamps."
"How close?"
"About ten minutes after Amanda left."
I stared at the photograph.
The SUV looked ordinary.
That was the terrifying part.
Nothing about it suggested danger.
No blacked-out windows.
No obvious markings.
Just an old gray vehicle parked where hundreds of cars might have parked.
"What do you need from me?"
"Anything you remember."
"I already told you."
"Look at the photograph again."
I did.
"Did you see the driver's side?"
"No."
"The windshield?"
"Maybe."
"Anything inside?"
I leaned closer.
There was a small object hanging from the rearview mirror.
A red strip.
My stomach tightened.
"Wait."
Mercer noticed.
"What?"
"That."
He looked.
"The mirror?"
"Something hanging from it."
He enlarged the photograph on his tablet.
The object was blurry.
But it was red.
Tyler stared.
"The fabric."
Mercer nodded.
"That's what I thought."
He looked at me.
"Can you identify the vehicle?"
"Yes."
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He put the tablet away.
"Now I need to ask you something else."
"What?"
"Have you ever seen that SUV before today?"
I thought.
The question bothered me.
I searched my memory.
"Maybe."
"Where?"
"Near our house."
Tyler looked at me.
"When?"
"Last week."
Mercer leaned forward.
"How many times?"
"I don't know."
"Try."
"Twice."
"Same vehicle?"
"I think so."
"Why didn't you mention it?"
"Because I thought it belonged to a neighbor."
"Did it park outside your house?"
"Across the street."
Mercer exchanged a glance with Tyler.
"Was anyone inside?"
"Once."
"Could you see the person?"
"Not clearly."
"Male or female?"
"I think male."
"Any clothing?"
"Dark jacket."
Tyler closed his eyes.
Reyes had said the man at the warehouse wore a dark jacket.
The description was too common to mean anything.
But the red fabric wasn't.
Mercer gathered his photographs.
"I'm going to have officers check your house."
"Why?"
"Because if someone has been watching you, we need to know."
"I can go home."
"No."
Tyler spoke immediately.
"She stays here."
Mercer nodded.
"That's my recommendation."
I looked at Tyler.
He gave me a look that said he wasn't going to negotiate.
For once, I didn't argue.
Mercer left.
The room felt colder after he was gone.
I stared at the door.
"Do you think we're in danger?"
Tyler answered honestly.
"I don't know."
"You're supposed to say no."
"I'm not going to lie to you."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
He reached for my hand.
"I should have listened to Reyes."
"About what?"
"About not keeping things from you."
I smiled faintly.
"Yes."
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
He squeezed my fingers.
Then his expression became serious.
"There is something I haven't told anyone."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"When I found the girl, she was holding something."
"What?"
"A photograph."
My heart skipped.
"What kind?"
"Small. Burned around the edges."
"Of whom?"
"I don't know."
"Did you see it?"
"Only briefly."
"Where is it?"
"I gave it to the paramedic."
"Did you tell Reyes?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I forgot."
He looked embarrassed.
"The concussion."
"Maybe."
"Or because I was thinking about the girl."
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'He'll come back.'"
My skin prickled.
"Who?"
"She wouldn't say."
"Did she mean the man?"
"I don't know."
I looked at him.
"What did the photograph look like?"
"Two people."
"Adults?"
"Yes."
"Man and woman?"
"I think so."
"Could one be the person who sent the message?"
"I don't know."
He looked at the ceiling.
"I remember one detail."
"What?"
"The woman was wearing a red scarf."
I felt the blood leave my face.
"The fabric."
"Maybe."
"No."
I stood.
"The red fabric."
Tyler looked at me.
"You think it's connected."
"I don't know."
"But?"
"But nothing about today feels random anymore."
The door opened.
Captain Reyes returned.
He looked at both of us.
"Detective Mercer spoke to you?"
"Yes."
Reyes nodded.
"He found the SUV."
"How did you know?"
"We're working together."
I told him about seeing it near our house.
His expression changed.
"You didn't tell investigators about that before?"
"I didn't think it mattered."
"It matters."
"Apparently everything matters now."
Reyes sat down.
"There's another development."
Tyler looked at him.
"What?"
"The little girl has been identified."
I leaned forward.
"Who is she?"
Reyes took a breath.
"Her name is Lily."
"Lily what?"
"That's the problem."
He looked at Tyler.
"She refuses to give a last name."
"Why?"
"Because she says her father told her never to say it."
I felt a chill.
"Does she know where her father is?"
"She says he's dead."
Tyler looked troubled.
"Did she see him?"
"No."
"Then how does she know?"
Reyes shook his head.
"She says he told her he would die."
"When?"
"Before the fire."
The room went silent.
"Captain," I said, "why was she in that warehouse?"
"We're trying to determine that."
"Was she living there?"
"No."
"Was she kidnapped?"
"We don't know."
"Did she run away?"
"Possibly."
"From whom?"
Reyes looked at me.
"That's the question."
He reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a small plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a child's key.
"That's the key from her backpack."
Tyler stared.
Reyes continued.
"Lily says it opens a house."
"What house?"
"She won't tell us."
I looked at the key.
There was a tiny blue marking near the top.
Something about it looked familiar.
Then I remembered.
Our old house.
The key we had used before moving.
Same shape.
Same blue mark.
I looked at Tyler.
"That's like our old key."
His face changed.
Reyes noticed.
"What?"
"The old house."
"Where?"
I told him.
He wrote down the address.
Then he looked at me.
"Do you still have the key?"
"No."
Tyler suddenly spoke.
"I do."
I turned toward him.
"You do?"
He nodded.
"In the garage."
"Why?"
"Because you said you'd keep one."
I remembered.
A spare key.
Inside a small metal box.
I had forgotten about it.
Reyes stood.
"We need to check that house."
"Why?"
"Because if Lily's key belongs there, we need to know why."
I looked at Tyler.
He couldn't come with us.
Not in his condition.
"I'll go."
"No," Reyes said.
"Captain—"
"We'll send officers."
He looked at Tyler.
"And we'll secure the hospital."
My phone vibrated again.
Another message.
This time, there was no sentence.
Only a photograph.
I opened it.
My breath caught.
It was our old house.
Taken from across the street.
And in one upstairs window was a small red mark.
Tyler looked over.
His face went pale.
"That's the room."
"What room?"
"The room where we kept the photograph."
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Photograph From Our Old House Revealed Why Someone Had Followed Us, and Lily’s Secret Finally Gave the Fire a Human Face
I Arrived With Balloons and Cake, Expecting My Husband to Laugh—Instead His Entire Crew Went Silent When They Saw Me
Part 7 of 40
