Chapter 7 - I WAS SUPPOSED TO FIND BELLE
That realization frightened me more than the kidnapping.
Someone had not merely targeted Belle.
They had built a route.
Theater.
Garage.
Me.
Butterfly clip.
Harlan.
Why?
Victor reconstructed my movement.
I finished my shift at 10:05.
Took the alley shortcut.
Passed the parking structure.
He looked at me.
“Do you always use that route?”
“Three nights a week.”
“So someone studied you.”
Harlan’s face became cold.
“Find cameras.”
They did.
One street camera showed a woman placing something near the garage entrance twenty minutes before I found Belle.
She wore a maintenance jacket.
Baseball cap.
Face hidden.
Then she looked directly at the camera.
Not accidental.
Almost deliberate.
She wanted the footage.
Then she walked away.
No limp.
Average height.
Blond hair escaping the cap.
Belle’s butterfly lady.
Victor enhanced the image.
Rachel stared.
“I know her.”
“Who?”
“Dana Holt.”
Former Brightwell nurse.
Worked under Thomas Kerr.
After Elsie disappeared, Dana told police she saw nothing.
Then left Michigan.
“Where is she now?”
Rachel searched.
No current address.
But Dana’s nursing license had been renewed in Ohio.
Then another connection surfaced.
Dana had treated Beth Warren during an inpatient addiction program before Beth died.
She knew Elsie’s mother.
She knew Brightwell.
She knew Thomas.
And apparently knew me.
Why?
We found out that afternoon.
Dana called.
Directly.
My phone.
I answered on speaker.
“Rue?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Harlan leaned forward.
“Where is Belle’s kidnapper?”
Dana heard his voice.
“Mr. Voss.”
“Answer.”
“He wasn’t supposed to hurt her.”
My stomach turned.
“You helped lure a six-year-old.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make you open the Elsie case again.”
Silence.
Harlan’s face went unreadable.
“You used my daughter.”
“Yes.”
Dana started crying.
“I tried another way.”
“What way?”
“Letters. Anonymous files. Nobody acted.”
“Then you endangered Belle.”
“I know.”
No excuses.
Good.
Then Dana said:
“The man who took her is Thomas Kerr.”
Harlan went still.
Thomas himself.
Alive.
Back.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You hired him?”
“No.”
“I contacted him.”
Why?
Dana had told Thomas she possessed evidence that Elsie was alive.
He came running.
She then fed him Belle’s schedule, expecting him to approach Harlan indirectly.
Instead, he took Belle.
Dana panicked.
Told Belle to run if possible.
Placed me in the area because she knew my family history and believed Harlan would trust a Callaway who saved Belle.
Insane.
Manipulative.
But internally logical.
“Why me?”
“Your mother trusted no one.”
“That does not mean I’m useful.”
“She left something else.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Owen’s ledger wasn’t the first one.”
“What?”
“Julia made her own.”
“When?”
“After Elsie disappeared.”
“Where is it?”
Dana said:
“Ask your old landlord.”
I stared.
“What old landlord?”
“The apartment you lived in with Julia on Cass Avenue.”
That building was demolished eight years ago.
Dana continued:
“Your mother hid it before demolition.”
“Where?”
“In the one thing you refused to throw away.”
I thought of everything we carried out before leaving.
Mom’s dishes.
Photographs.
Old radio.
Then I knew.
Her diner jukebox.
A tiny tabletop machine that hadn’t worked in years.
It sat in storage under my name.
Harlan looked at me.
“Let’s go.”
Dana interrupted.
“No.”
Everyone froze.
“Do not bring Harlan.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas is watching the storage unit.”
Then she hung up.
May you like
And within thirty seconds, my storage company sent an automated alert.
My unit door had just been opened.
