She grabbed me first.”
No one in Trauma Two moved.
I had never accused him of hurting her.
I hadn’t even told him I’d seen Emily.
The deputy reached for his notebook again.
My voice remained quiet.
“You said she left after an argument.”
“She did.”
“Now you’re saying she grabbed you.”
“Because she did.
She was hysterical.
She ripped my shirt.”
My eyes dropped to the evidence bag.
The white strip of fabric lay inside it, the navy embroidery turned partly toward the plastic.
D.C.M.
Again, I had never mentioned the shirt.
Neither had anyone else.
Alan closed his eyes for a moment.
The deputy silently mouthed, Keep going.
“Which shirt?” I asked.
Daniel went quiet.
This silence was different.
The first pauses had been calculation.
This was recognition.
He knew what he’d just done.
“Forget it,” he said.
“Daniel.”
“I said forget it.
Just tell me whether Emily is with you.”
I looked at my daughter.
Her warning came back to me.
Don’t let him know I’m still alive.
I understood then that answering Daniel’s question was not mine to do.
“Why does that matter so much?”
His voice hardened.
The worried husband disappeared.
“Because she’s my wife, Richard.
This is between us.
You have always had a problem staying out of our marriage.”
There it was.
Not grief.
Not fear that Emily was injured.
Possession.
“Where are you right now?” I asked.
“Home.”
The deputy wrote something and motioned to another officer outside the curtain.
Daniel continued before I could speak.
“If she comes to you, call me before you call anyone else.
Do you understand?”
I almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because he still believed he was giving orders.
“Why before anyone else?”
“Because she needs to calm down before she says something she’ll regret.”
Behind me, the deputy’s expression went flat.
Daniel had just described his greatest concern without realizing it.
