Chapter 9 - THE CALL FROM MARA
The phone rang at 2:06 the next morning.
Unknown number.
I was awake.
I had not slept since finding Perrin behind the wall.
Ortiz had left an officer outside my bedroom and another beside Perrin's.
I answered immediately.
"Mara?"
For several seconds, there was only breathing.
Then her voice.
"Caleb."
I sat upright.
"Where are you?"
"I don't know."
Her words were weak.
Slow.
Like every syllable required effort.
"Are you hurt?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
"I'm going to find you."
"You need to listen."
"Mara."
"Listen."
I forced myself to be quiet.
"Perrin."
"He's safe."
She exhaled.
"Is he really?"
"He's with me."
"Rhea hurt him?"
I looked toward the door.
"Yes."
Mara began crying softly.
"I'm sorry."
"No."
"This isn't your fault."
"I should have told you."
"Tell me now."
A noise sounded behind her.
She lowered her voice.
"The ledger isn't money."
"I know."
"Simon told you?"
"Yes."
"Don't trust him completely."
"I don't."
"Good."
I heard movement.
"Mara, where is the blue book?"
Silence.
"Why?"
"Rhea wants it."
"She can never have it."
"If it gets you home, I don't care what's inside."
"You will."
"I care about you."
"Caleb."
Her voice became suddenly clear.
"If Rhea gets that book, she can identify everyone your father paid."
"That sounds like evidence."
"It is."
"Then police need it."
"Yes."
"Where?"
Another noise.
A door opening.
Mara whispered quickly.
"Remember the summer Perrin learned to swim."
My mind raced.
"What?"
"The place where he was afraid to jump."
Then she disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
Perrin learned to swim at my parents' old country house.
There was a stone pool behind the guest cottage.
My father sold the property before he died.
But Mara had loved it.
We had spent almost every summer there when Perrin was small.
I called Ortiz.
Forty minutes later, we were searching property records.
The country house now belonged to a retired surgeon.
He granted police access before sunrise.
I knew exactly where to go.
The pool had been drained for renovation.
At the deep end stood the diving platform Perrin had been afraid to use.
Mara had sat beside him for nearly an hour that day.
She never pushed.
She simply held his hand until he was ready.
I knelt beside the stone platform.
One tile was slightly different from the others.
An officer removed it.
Behind it was a narrow cavity.
Inside was a blue leather ledger wrapped in plastic.
My heart pounded.
Ortiz opened it carefully.
Names.
Dates.
Account numbers.
Payments.
Initials.
Some entries were decades old.
Others had been added recently in Mara's handwriting.
She had continued investigating my father's network.
Then Ortiz reached the final pages.
Rhea Dalton.
Simon Mercer.
Warren Voss.
Beside Rhea's name was a notation.
PLANNING C.M. ACCIDENT AFTER M.M. REMOVED.
I stared at it.
C.M.
Caleb Mercer.
Me.
May you like
Rhea had never planned to marry me.
She had planned to kill me.
