Chapter 7 - THE GIRL IN THE RED COAT
Grace reached the hotel suite in seven minutes.
It felt like seven years.
Security had locked down the building.
Elevators were monitored.
Stairwells checked.
Every exit covered.
Still, Chloe was missing.
Grace grabbed Daniel's shirt.
"How?"
"I don't know."
"You had one job!"
"I went to the bathroom."
"YOU LEFT HER?"
"For less than a minute!"
James stepped between them.
"Stop."
Grace rounded on him.
"Don't tell me to stop."
"Then use your anger to find her."
She froze.
He was right.
Grace hated that too.
A security officer approached.
"Camera footage."
They crowded around a tablet.
Chloe appeared in the hallway at 2:14 p.m.
She was holding her doll.
She walked toward the elevator.
Alone.
Grace leaned closer.
"Why?"
The elevator doors opened.
Chloe entered.
Nobody followed.
James frowned.
"She wasn't taken."
Daniel whispered, "Then where did she go?"
The next camera showed Chloe exiting on the ground floor.
She walked through the lobby.
A concierge noticed her and bent to speak with her.
Then Chloe pointed outside.
The concierge turned toward the desk.
Chloe kept walking.
Grace covered her mouth.
"Why didn't someone stop her?"
James looked furious.
Another camera showed Chloe exiting onto the sidewalk.
A red winter coat.
Blonde hair.
Tiny boots moving into Midtown crowds.
Then she disappeared.
Grace nearly collapsed.
James caught her.
"Find every camera."
Security worked.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Twenty.
Grace stood rigid.
Daniel cried silently beside the wall.
At twenty-seven minutes, a guard spoke.
"We have her."
Grace turned.
"Where?"
"Bryant Park."
Grace ran.
Chloe stood beside the skating rink holding hands with a police officer.
Grace reached her and dropped to her knees.
"Oh my God."
She pulled Chloe into her arms.
"Mommy!"
Grace held her so tightly Chloe squeaked.
"Why did you leave?"
Chloe's face crumpled.
"I wanted to find Daddy a present."
Grace stared.
"What?"
"He didn't get Christmas."
Daniel stopped behind them.
Chloe held up her doll.
"I was going to ask Santa."
Daniel covered his face.
Grace looked from daughter to ex-husband.
Fear became anger.
Then relief.
Then exhaustion.
"Never leave without telling me."
"I won't."
"Ever."
"I promise."
Grace hugged her again.
James stood several feet away.
Something twisted painfully in his chest.
He remembered another child in a red coat.
His younger sister, Anna.
She had been eight.
James had been twelve.
They were staying in a motel outside Newark because their mother could not afford their apartment.
Anna wanted candy.
James told her the gas station was across the road.
He gave her two dollars.
She never reached it.
A drunk driver ran the light.
Anna died before the ambulance arrived.
James had spent thirty years believing he should have stopped her.
Grace looked up.
"James?"
He realized everyone was watching.
"I'm fine."
But Grace saw his face.
Later, after Chloe fell asleep at the hotel, Grace found James alone near the window.
"You knew what that felt like."
He did not turn.
"What?"
"Losing sight of a child."
James's jaw tightened.
Grace waited.
"My sister."
He finally said.
"She was eight."
Grace stayed silent.
"Car accident."
"I'm sorry."
"I sent her outside."
"You were a child."
"I was twelve."
"Exactly."
James looked at her.
"She asked me for candy. I gave her money."
"That doesn't make it your fault."
"I know."
Grace studied him.
"You know it here."
She touched her temple.
"Not here."
She touched her chest.
James almost smiled.
"You're very direct."
"I'm very tired."
For a moment, they stood quietly.
Then Grace asked, "Why did you never marry?"
James turned back to the city.
"I did."
She blinked.
"Oh."
"Her name was Laura."
Grace immediately regretted asking.
"What happened?"
"She died six years ago."
"James..."
"Cancer."
He said it simply.
Not because it was simple.
Because he had said the word enough times to remove everything except the fact.
"We were married four years."
"Any children?"
"No."
Grace looked toward the bedroom.
"Chloe likes you."
"Chloe likes everyone."
"No."
Grace smiled faintly.
"She tolerates most people."
James laughed quietly.
The moment softened.
Then Daniel appeared.
"Grace."
She turned.
Daniel held a brown envelope.
"I need to tell you what happened before I left."
Grace's face hardened again.
"Now?"
"Especially now."
They sat at the dining table.
Daniel placed the envelope down.
"Charles lied about one thing."
James leaned forward.
"Which thing?"
"Grace didn't discover the fraud."
Daniel looked at her.
"She discovered me."
Grace said nothing.
"I had taken money."
"Twenty-seven thousand."
"That was only what remained."
Grace's stomach dropped.
"How much?"
"Almost ninety."
She stared.
Daniel continued.
"I thought I could use it to get us out."
"Out of what?"
"Debt."
Grace laughed.
"What debt?"
Daniel looked ashamed.
"Mine."
She became still.
"I gambled."
James looked away.
Grace whispered, "You told me you stopped."
"I didn't."
"How much?"
"More than a hundred thousand."
Grace stood.
"While I was working nights?"
"Yes."
"While Chloe ate cereal for dinner?"
"Yes."
Her hand moved before she thought.
She slapped him.
Daniel did not react.
Grace immediately stepped back.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be."
"Yes, I do."
She sat again.
"Continue."
Daniel rubbed his face.
"I took money from Northstar accounts. Charles found out."
"Why didn't he fire you?"
"Because I knew too much."
James understood.
"He used your crime to control you."
"Exactly."
Daniel nodded.
"When I tried to quit, Leonard threatened prosecution. Then they showed me pictures of Grace and Chloe."
Grace's face drained.
"They watched us?"
"For weeks."
"So you left."
"I thought if I disappeared, they'd stop."
"You could've told me."
"I was ashamed."
Grace's eyes filled.
"That word doesn't cover eleven months."
"No."
Daniel pushed the envelope toward her.
"Open it."
Inside were receipts.
Money-transfer confirmations.
A letter.
Grace read.
Daniel had been sending small amounts anonymously through charities, prepaid rent programs, utility assistance.
Grace looked up.
"That was you?"
Daniel nodded.
"Not enough."
Grace remembered mysterious eighty-dollar credits.
A grocery voucher.
The electric company telling her an anonymous donor paid half a bill.
She had believed some church program helped them.
"Why didn't you send more?"
"Anything large could be traced."
Grace closed the envelope.
"I don't know whether to thank you or hate you."
"You don't have to choose today."
James's phone buzzed.
Evelyn.
He answered.
"What now?"
She spoke rapidly.
James stood.
"Send it."
"What?" Grace asked.
James turned the laptop toward them.
A new email had arrived from an anonymous address.
Attached was a photograph.
Grace's apartment.
Taken from across the street.
Below it was one sentence.
DROP THE INVESTIGATION OR THE NEXT FIRE WON'T BE EMPTY.
Grace stared.
Daniel whispered, "Charles."
James shook his head.
"No."
"How can you say that?"
"Because Charles threatens with lawyers, banks, contracts."
James enlarged the image.
"He doesn't write like this."
Grace looked at him.
"Then who?"
James studied the metadata.
The message had been routed through multiple servers.
But the photograph contained something in the reflection of a parked car.
A man.
Half visible.
Grace leaned closer.
Her face changed.
"I know him."
Daniel looked.
"So do I."
James turned.
"Who?"
Daniel stared at the reflection.
"Leonard Price."
Grace's fear sharpened.
James grabbed his coat.
"Good."
Grace frowned.
"Good?"
James's expression became cold.
"Because until now, Leonard was hiding."
He slid the photograph into a folder.
May you like
"Now we know he's scared."
And scared men, James had learned long ago, made mistakes.
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