Chapter 3 - The Third Girl
I had been married to Taylor for nine years.
I had known her for eleven.
In all that time, I had never heard the name Sarah.
Not once.
Detective Collins placed the photograph beneath the evidence light.
Taylor appeared to be around ten.
Emily looked younger.
The third girl stood slightly apart from them, wearing a red winter coat and holding a pair of white ice skates.
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Friend?”
“Maybe.”
“Cousin?”
“I knew most of Taylor’s cousins.”
“And you never saw her?”
“No.”
Collins turned the photograph over again.
Mom said she ran away.
The handwriting looked like Taylor’s.
But much younger.
Possibly childhood handwriting.
“Could Taylor have written this?”
“I think so.”
“Are you certain?”
“No.”
Collins studied the photo.
“What town did Taylor grow up in?”
“Silver Creek.”
The detective beside her looked up.
“That’s two hours west.”
Collins nodded.
“Near the mountains.”
“And near several reservoirs.”
My phone buzzed.
For one irrational second, I hoped it was Taylor again.
It was my attorney.
CALL ME IMMEDIATELY.
I stepped into the hall.
Her name was Andrea Mills.
She had represented me throughout the divorce.
It was almost three in the morning.
“Andrea?”
“I just received an emergency filing.”
“What filing?”
“Taylor’s attorney submitted it at 2:31.”
My stomach tightened.
“For what?”
“An ex parte custody order.”
I stared through the window at Lily.
“What?”
“They’re alleging you unlawfully entered Taylor’s property and removed Lily.”
I nearly laughed.
“Lily was inside a freezer.”
“I know.”
“Police know.”
“I know.”
“Then what the hell are we talking about?”
“Ryan, listen.”
Andrea’s voice became firmer.
“The filing includes an affidavit signed by Taylor.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Before tonight?”
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
“That she fears you will use the divorce to take Lily.”
“That you have become obsessive.”
“That you threatened to enter the home without permission.”
“I never threatened that.”
“I know.”
“And Taylor called me twenty minutes after Lily reached the hospital.”
“That helps.”
“She said her mother knows I found Lily.”
“That helps more.”
“Is this petition from Taylor or from Evelyn?”
“Legally, it came from Taylor.”
“Practically?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
I thought of the journal.
I signed the custody papers because Mom threatened Lily.
Ryan will think I betrayed him.
“Taylor was forced.”
“If we can prove it, the filing may collapse.”
“May?”
“We still need procedure.”
I hated procedure.
Procedure was neat.
What happened to Lily was not.
“Do not leave the hospital.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not contact Evelyn.”
“I don’t know where she is.”
“Good.”
“And Ryan?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something odd about the affidavit.”
“What?”
“The notary.”
“What about it?”
“It was notarized by a woman named Diane Foster.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Should I know her?”
“No.”
“But I do.”
Andrea paused.
“She notarized another affidavit in your divorce.”
“Which one?”
“The statement from your former neighbor claiming you screamed at Taylor in the driveway.”
I remembered.
The neighbor had later admitted she had been inside and had only heard voices.
The allegation went nowhere.
“Same notary?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So Diane Foster is Evelyn’s cousin.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course she was.
Andrea continued.
“I’m filing an emergency response.”
“Send me everything.”
“I will.”
When I returned to Lily’s room, Detective Collins was speaking with a hospital social worker.
Her name was Rachel Kim.
She explained that child protective services had been notified automatically.
Normally, hearing CPS would have scared me.
That night, it felt like reinforcement.
“What happens now?”
Rachel answered carefully.
“Lily will not be discharged until there is a safe placement.”
“She’s coming with me.”
“That is a strong possibility.”
“Possibility?”
“Because there is an active custody order.”
“That order was signed before her grandmother locked her in a freezer.”
“I understand.”
“Does everyone understand?”
My voice rose.
Lily shifted in bed.
I immediately lowered it.
Rachel didn’t react defensively.
“We’re documenting everything.”
“I need you to understand something too, Mr. Mercer.”
“What?”
“My job is not to protect the custody order.”
“My job is to protect Lily.”
That was enough for me.
At 4:18 a.m., Detective Collins received the first preliminary extraction from the garage camera system.
She asked me to step away from Lily’s room.
“We found footage from tonight.”
I braced myself.
“Tell me.”
“The garage camera captured Evelyn arriving at 7:12 p.m.”
“And Taylor?”
“Already home.”
“Lily?”
“Home too.”
“At 7:46, Taylor and Evelyn came into the garage arguing.”
“Audio?”
“Yes.”
My stomach twisted.
“What were they saying?”
Collins glanced at her notes.
“Taylor said, ‘You are never touching my daughter again.’”
I closed my eyes.
“She tried to stop her.”
“Yes.”
“What did Evelyn say?”
“‘You don’t have a daughter without me.’”
That sentence made no sense.
“What does that mean?”
“We don’t know.”
“What happened next?”
“Taylor tried to leave.”
“Evelyn blocked the garage.”
“Physically?”
“Yes.”
“Did she hit Taylor?”
“Not on that recording.”
“At 8:03, Lily entered the garage.”
“Why?”
“We can’t tell.”
“Taylor told her to go back inside.”
“Evelyn grabbed Lily by the arm.”
My hands curled into fists.
“Then what?”
“Taylor attempted to intervene.”
“The camera feed cuts out.”
“For how long?”
“Thirty-four minutes.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Yes.”
“When it returns, the garage is empty.”
“And Lily?”
“At 9:14, Evelyn reenters carrying Lily.”
I couldn’t speak.
Collins continued because she had to.
“Your daughter appears conscious.”
“She is crying.”
“Evelyn opens the freezer.”
I turned away.
“Stop.”
Collins did.
I pressed both hands against the wall.
I had imagined it.
But imagining and knowing were different things.
“How long?”
“Ryan.”
“How long was she inside before I arrived?”
“Approximately thirty-one minutes.”
I shut my eyes.
Thirty-one minutes.
The thought made me sick.
“She could have died.”
“Yes.”
“Did Evelyn leave?”
“After closing the freezer, she walked toward the driveway.”
“She returned nine minutes later.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then?”
“She went inside the house.”
“At 9:32, she came back out carrying two bags.”
“What kind of bags?”
“One duffel.”
“One plastic storage tote.”
“Then she left.”
“In her car?”
“No.”
I looked at Collins.
“What?”
“Someone picked her up.”
“Who?”
“The vehicle stopped just outside the camera frame.”
“Make?”
“Unknown.”
“Color?”
“Dark SUV.”
“And Taylor?”
“Never appears again after the camera cuts out at 8:03.”
A new horror began forming.
“What happened during those thirty-four minutes?”
“That’s what we need to determine.”
“Can you recover the missing footage?”
“Our digital team believes the file may have been manually deleted.”
“By Evelyn?”
“Possibly.”
“Or Taylor.”
Collins let the possibility sit there.
I hated it.
I also knew she had to consider it.
At sunrise, Lily’s doctor finally let me sit beside her without interruptions.
She was sleeping when my phone rang again.
This time, it was a local number.
Detective Collins motioned for me to put it on speaker.
I answered.
“Ryan?”
Taylor.
Her voice sounded weaker.
“Taylor, where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
“Is Lily alive?”
The question hit me like a punch.
“Yes.”
Taylor began sobbing.
I had heard her cry during our divorce.
This was different.
This was raw relief.
“Thank God.”
“Taylor, listen to me.”
“The police are here.”
“They can help you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she has people.”
“Your mother?”
“She always has people.”
“What does that mean?”
“She knows things about everyone.”
“Taylor, where are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“The divorce.”
I looked at Collins.
Taylor continued.
“I thought if I pushed you away, she’d stop watching you.”
“She said if you kept fighting for custody, she’d make sure Lily disappeared.”
My blood went cold.
“She said what?”
“I didn’t believe her at first.”
“Then I found Emily’s file.”
“What file?”
“The one behind the furnace.”
“It’s gone.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Police opened the compartment.”
“There was only a photograph.”
Taylor stopped breathing for a second.
“She took it.”
“What was inside?”
“Everything.”
“Taylor.”
“What was everything?”
“Emily’s death report.”
“Sarah’s missing-person flyer.”
“Letters from my father.”
“And tapes.”
“What tapes?”
I could hear Taylor crying again.
“My mother used to record us when we were punished.”
Detective Collins closed her eyes briefly.
“When we were children.”
“What did she do to you?”
Taylor didn’t answer.
Instead, she said something strange.
“Ask Lily about the numbers.”
“What numbers?”
“She’ll know.”
Then there was a sound on Taylor’s end.
A car door.
Taylor gasped.
“I have to go.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“I’m trying to get to Silver Creek.”
“Why?”
“Because Sarah didn’t run away.”
The call crackled.
“Taylor?”
“She survived.”
I stared at the phone.
“What?”
“My sister survived.”
I thought I had misunderstood.
“Sarah was your sister?”
“Yes.”
“My older sister.”
“You told me you only had Emily.”
“Because that’s what my mother made everyone believe.”
“Where is Sarah now?”
Taylor whispered an answer I never expected.
“I think she’s been looking for us.”
A man shouted something in the background.
Taylor inhaled sharply.
Then she said,
“Ryan, if my mother reaches her first, Sarah is dead.”
The call ended.
Detective Collins was already moving.
“Trace.”
The other detective grabbed his phone.
I looked through the glass at Lily.
Ask Lily about the numbers.
I entered her room and waited until she woke naturally twenty minutes later.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“Mommy told me to ask you about numbers.”
Every trace of sleep disappeared from Lily’s face.
“What numbers?”
“She said you would know.”
Lily slowly sat upright.
Then she looked toward the door to make sure no one was there.
“Grandma makes me remember them.”
“What numbers?”
“She says if I forget, I stay longer.”
My pulse began pounding.
“Stay where?”
“The cold place.”
I swallowed.
“What numbers do you remember?”
Lily whispered them carefully.
“Four.”
“Nine.”
“Two.”
“Seven.”
“Three.”
“One.”
“Eight.”
“Six.”
I wrote them down.
Detective Collins stared at the sequence.
“Phone number?”
“Too short.”
“Code?”
“Maybe.”
Then Lily shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
“You have to say the letters too.”
“What letters?”
She recited them.
“E.”
“G.”
“F.”
“Eight numbers.”
“Three letters.”
Collins entered them into her phone.
Nothing.
Then the detective beside her looked up.
“Colorado vehicle registrations.”
“What?”
“Old title numbers use eight digits.”
Collins turned to Lily.
“Did Grandma ever show you where she put those numbers?”
Lily nodded.
“On the silver box.”
“What silver box?”
“In her closet.”
“Which closet?”
“Grandma’s house.”
Evelyn’s condo.
Officers were dispatched immediately.
At 7:36 a.m., they entered with a warrant.
The silver box was exactly where Lily said it would be.
Inside were cash, fake identification cards, a pistol, newspaper clippings, and an old vehicle title.
The title belonged to a 1998 Ford Explorer.
Registered to Evelyn Grant.
Reported stolen twenty-seven years earlier.
The same week eight-year-old Emily Grant drowned.
And fifteen-year-old Sarah Grant supposedly ran away.
Police records showed the vehicle had never been recovered.
But written across the bottom of the title was an address.
An abandoned cabin outside Silver Creek.
Detective Collins looked at me.
“We’re going there.”
I immediately stood.
“So am I.”
“No.”
“My ex-wife is heading there.”
“Which is exactly why you are staying with Lily.”
I wanted to fight her.
Then Lily reached for my hand.
I knew Collins was right.
Before leaving, she stopped in the doorway.
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“The old Explorer was not reported stolen by Evelyn.”
“Who reported it?”
“Taylor’s father.”
I frowned.
“I thought he died in an accident.”
“He did.”
“When?”
May you like
Collins met my eyes.
“Three days after he reported the Explorer stolen.”
