The hospital room remained silent long after the message disappeared from my screen.
Tyler kept staring at the phone.
I watched his face.
He looked less frightened than angry.
That worried me more.
"Give me the phone," Reyes said.
I handed it over.
He photographed the message before touching anything else.
"Don't delete it."
"I won't."
Reyes examined the number.
"Blocked."
"Can they still contact me?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Numbers can be spoofed."
Tyler frowned.
"Then the number doesn't mean anything."
"It means something."
"How?"
"It tells us somebody wants you to believe they can reach you."
I looked at Reyes.
"That's not exactly comforting."
"No."
He sat down.
"I need both of you to understand something."
Tyler nodded.
"The investigation is no longer being treated as a routine warehouse fire."
"I figured."
"We have evidence of a warning message, an unknown person inside the building, a recording made before the crew entered, and a child whose presence appears to have been known by someone before firefighters found her."
I looked at Tyler.
"And the wallet."
Reyes nodded.
"And the missing photograph."
"What was written on the back?"
"We don't know."
"Can investigators recover it?"
"If we find it."
Tyler stared at the floor.
"I remember the address."
"What address?"
"Our first house."
Reyes looked at me.
"Do you still live there?"
"No. We moved six years ago."
"Does anyone know the old address?"
"Probably."
"Who?"
"Family. Friends. Bills. Records."
"Anyone connected to the department?"
"I don't know."
Reyes nodded.
"That's something we'll need to establish."
Tyler shifted.
"Captain."
"What?"
"If the photograph was taken from my wallet, whoever took it knew me."
Reyes didn't answer.
Tyler continued.
"They didn't just grab something random."
"Correct."
"They knew what they were looking for."
"Possibly."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Then why leave the wallet?"
Reyes looked at me.
"That's one of the questions investigators are asking."
The answer sat between us.
If someone wanted to steal Tyler's identification, they could have taken the entire wallet.
If someone wanted the photograph, they had taken only that.
Which meant the photograph itself mattered.
"What was on the back besides the address?" I asked.
Tyler looked at me.
"Something else."
"What?"
"I can't remember."
"Try."
He closed his eyes.
I watched his fingers curl against the blanket.
"Blue ink."
"Okay."
"Your handwriting."
"Okay."
"A date."
"Which date?"
He opened his eyes.
"Our anniversary."
I stared at him.
"Why would I write our anniversary?"
"You wrote the date we met."
A strange memory surfaced.
A summer evening.
A cheap diner.
Tyler sitting across from me, pretending he wasn't nervous.
Me laughing because he had spilled ketchup on his sleeve.
The photograph had been taken months later.
I had written on the back as a joke.
Our address.
The date we met.
And one sentence.
I remembered it suddenly.
"Oh."
Tyler looked at me.
"What?"
"I remember."
"What did you write?"
I swallowed.
"Home is wherever you are."
His eyes softened.
Reyes looked away.
It was an intimate thing to remember in the middle of an investigation.
But now I understood why someone might want the photograph.
It wasn't merely a picture.
It was proof of something.
A relationship.
A home.
A date.
A connection.
Still, none of it explained the fire.
Reyes's phone rang.
He answered.
"Reyes."
He listened.
His expression changed.
"How certain?"
Another pause.
"Don't touch it."
He hung up.
"What?"
"Investigators found something."
"Where?"
"At the warehouse."
Tyler looked at him.
"Another phone?"
"No."
Reyes hesitated.
"A child's backpack."
My stomach dropped.
"Her backpack?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Near the west stairwell."
Tyler closed his eyes.
"That's where I saw him."
"Who?"
"The man."
Reyes nodded.
"Exactly."
I stood.
"What was inside?"
"Not much."
"Not much?"
"Clothes. A water bottle. A small notebook."
"Anything else?"
Reyes looked at Tyler.
"A key."
Tyler opened his eyes.
"What kind?"
"House key."
I felt a chill.
"Her house?"
"We don't know."
"Can the girl identify it?"
"She's refusing to talk."
"She talked to Tyler."
"That's why investigators want to speak with you."
"Me?"
"She may respond differently to someone connected to Tyler."
I looked at my husband.
Tyler's expression was troubled.
"Can I see her?"
Reyes shook his head.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"She's been moved to a protected location."
"Protected from whom?"
"We don't know."
That answer was becoming a pattern.
I hated it.
Tyler reached for my hand.
"Let Reyes handle it."
I looked at him.
"You said you trusted me."
"I do."
"Then let me help."
He sighed.
"I don't want you anywhere near this."
"That's not your decision."
He looked at me.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Then he smiled faintly.
"There she is."
"What?"
"My wife."
I rolled my eyes.
"Don't try to charm your way out of this."
"I'm injured."
"That has never stopped you."
Reyes stood.
"I'll talk to the investigators."
He moved toward the door.
"Captain."
He stopped.
"Be careful."
He looked at me.
"I will."
Then he left.
I sat beside Tyler.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Finally, he said, "I should have told you about the message."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
He smiled.
"You stole my line."
"I did."
I leaned against the chair.
"What did the message make you think?"
"That someone knew where we were."
"Why?"
"Because it arrived while I was in the warehouse."
"You didn't see it."
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
"I don't."
He looked at me.
"But I keep thinking about the timing."
My phone had received the warning only after we came to the hospital.
Someone had waited.
Why?
Unless the person sending it had been watching.
The thought made my skin crawl.
"Tyler."
"Hm?"
"What if they followed me?"
He sat up too quickly.
Pain crossed his face.
"Amanda."
"I'm serious."
"Did you see anyone?"
"No."
"Think."
"I drove here."
"Did anyone stay behind you?"
"I don't know."
"Any car?"
"I remember a gray SUV."
His face changed.
"What?"
"It was behind me for several blocks."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't think it mattered."
He stared at me.
"Where did it go?"
"I lost it at the hospital entrance."
Reyes had barely left the room when the door opened again.
A detective stood outside.
He introduced himself as Daniel Mercer.
He was carrying a folder.
"Mrs. Tyler?"
"Yes."
"Can I ask you a few questions?"
I nodded.
Tyler looked at him.
"About what?"
"The warehouse."
"She's not a witness."
"She may be."
I looked at Tyler.
Detective Mercer stepped inside.
"Did you receive any unusual communication before today?"
I thought about it.
"No."
"Any messages?"
"No."
"Calls?"
"No."
"Anyone watching your home?"
"I don't know."
"Any unfamiliar vehicles?"
I hesitated.
"Today."
He waited.
"A gray SUV."
His pen stopped.
"What did it look like?"
"Older model. Dark gray. I couldn't tell the plate."
"Where did you see it?"
"Behind me on the way here."
"Did you notice it before the hospital?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Several minutes."
He closed the folder.
"That's important."
Tyler looked at him.
"Why?"
Mercer hesitated.
"Because we've been looking for a gray SUV."
The room went quiet.
"Where?" I asked.
"Near the warehouse."
My pulse quickened.
"Same vehicle?"
"We don't know yet."
He reached into the folder.
"There's more."
He placed a photograph on the table.
It showed the warehouse from across the street.
A gray SUV was parked near the curb.
I stared at it.
I recognized the shape.
The same vehicle.
Mercer looked at me.
"Is that the car you saw?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
Tyler's jaw tightened.
Mercer turned the photograph around.
"Then we have a problem."
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Gray SUV Had Been Outside the Warehouse Before the Fire, but the Driver Left Behind One Detail That Changed Who We Were Looking For
I Arrived With Balloons and Cake, Expecting My Husband to Laugh—Instead His Entire Crew Went Silent When They Saw Me
Part 6 of 40
