Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL
The first threat arrived in a pink envelope with a cartoon rabbit printed on the front.
I found it wedged beneath the door of Lily's hospital room at 4:16 in the morning, while my daughter slept with one hand curled around the sleeve of my uniform.
There was no postage, no hospital identification, and no name.
Inside lay a photograph of Lily at our kitchen window, taken on the second day Derek had left her alone.
Someone had stood outside our house and watched my starving daughter while she waited for help.
On the back, in neat blue handwriting, someone had written: You came home too early, Major.
I pressed the call button, asked the nurse to keep Lily in sight, and dialed Detective Marcus Bell.
"Tell me nobody touches that envelope until your evidence technician gets here," I said.
Bell's voice sharpened immediately.
"Where's Lily?"
"Asleep. Tell me you have someone outside the hospital."
"I'm sending two officers. Don't leave that room."
I hung up and looked at Lily's face.
The doctors said dehydration and malnutrition had placed a terrible strain on her small body, but that she was responding to treatment.
For the first time since I had come home, she had slept for almost four uninterrupted hours.
Now a person who knew about the trap in our hallway was close enough to slip a message beneath her door.
When the nurse returned, I asked for the security supervisor, a list of visitors, and confirmation that nobody had accessed Lily's chart without authorization.
The supervisor, a broad-shouldered woman named Denise Harper, arrived twenty minutes later carrying a tablet.
She showed me the camera recording.
At 4:11, a woman in gray scrubs and a surgical mask had entered the pediatric corridor with a cleaning cart.
She stopped outside our door for five seconds.
Then she walked away without cleaning a single room.
The badge on her chest was turned backward.
"Do you recognize her?" Denise asked.
I watched the clip three times.
The woman had a slight limp in her left leg, and a habit of touching the bracelet beneath her sleeve.
I had seen that movement before, at my daughter's third birthday party.
"I think that's Derek's sister," I said.
"Jenna?" Denise asked.
I nodded.
But when Bell called the cruise operator, he learned that Jenna had not been recorded disembarking at Nassau with Derek.
According to the passenger manifest, she was still aboard.
My first instinct was to accuse the manifest of being wrong.
The second was worse: someone had taken the trouble to make sure we believed she could not be here.
Around six, Lily woke and asked if Daddy had found his shoes.
"What shoes, sweetheart?"
"The black ones. He said if I told about the shoes, the closet would get angry."
I kept my face still, although my pulse hammered.
"You can tell me anything. The closet can't hurt you now."
She looked over my shoulder toward the hospital door.
"The lady said that too."
"What lady?"
"The one who came when I was sleeping."
I held my daughter's hand and waited until she was ready.
"She said you should stop asking questions," Lily whispered.
When Bell reached our room, he brought a sealed evidence bag and an expression I did not like.
"We've just examined the insurance application," he said.
"Derek wasn't the person who submitted it."
I stared at him.
"Then who was?"
Bell took a breath.
"It was filed using a military dependent identification record. The authorization was signed with your name."
I looked down at the photograph again.
May you like
Someone had planned the death of my daughter, and that person had begun by making me look responsible.
