CHAPTER 20: The Dark Room at Daycare
Grace never went back to daycare.
I called the director from the prison parking lot and told her no one was authorized to release my daughter except me.
Then I called the neighbor caring for Grace and asked her to lock every door until we arrived.
Detective Ortiz arranged a patrol outside my building.
Mark called his department commander.
Alex called me before I could contact him.
“I heard about Valerie.”
“How?”
“Northline sent an internal safety notice. Sloane Urban is suspending all employees from entering Atlas Tower.”
“Why?”
“They claim someone made a threat against the building.”
I looked toward Lena.
She heard him through the speaker.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“At home.”
“Stay there.”
“I’m coming to Grace.”
“No,” I said.
The answer left my mouth before I considered it.
Alex became quiet.
“Someone photographed her at daycare,” I continued. “The message mentioned Atlas Tower.”
“I work there twice a week.”
“I know.”
“You think I’m involved.”
“I think you have been connected to every door these people opened.”
“I did not send that message.”
“I’m not taking chances with Grace.”
He breathed slowly.
“I understand.”
The old Alex would have appeared anyway.
The new Alex remained where I told him to stay.
That should have made me feel safer.
It didn’t.
Lena assigned two officers to accompany us home. Mark drove behind in his truck.
Grace was asleep when we arrived, unaware that her life had once again become the center of an adult nightmare.
I carried her to bed.
Near midnight, Lena received confirmation that Valerie had survived.
A fast-acting poison had entered her bloodstream through a needle puncture in her upper arm. The correctional officer seen in the room was not employed by the prison. His uniform had been stolen from a locker.
The real officer was found unconscious in a maintenance corridor.
Sloane Urban controlled the electronic locks in that corridor.
“Can we arrest Victor?” I asked.
“Not without direct evidence connecting him.”
“Valerie named him.”
“She is a convicted conspirator recovering from poisoning. His attorneys will argue she is trying to improve her situation.”
“She nearly died.”
“That proves someone wants her silent. It does not prove who.”
Mark paced near the window.
“Then we go to Atlas Tower.”
Lena shook her head.
“The message told her to come alone. That means the building is prepared.”
“Prepared for what?”
“To make her disappear.”
The following morning, Alex’s attorney contacted Lena.
Alex was willing to surrender his work computer, access badge, phone, and company records.
The equipment was collected before noon.
At two thirty, Lena called me.
“We found something in his employee locker.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Two Sentinel override modules.”
“The same kind used in the elevator?”
“Possibly.”
“That doesn’t mean he put them there.”
“No.”
“What else?”
“Photographs.”
“Of what?”
“You and Grace.”
I sat down.
Mark was in the kitchen making coffee.
He saw my face and immediately crossed the room.
“What happened?” he asked.
Lena continued through the phone.
“The photographs cover the last six months. Your grocery store. Grace’s pediatrician. The park. Your building.”
“Alex would never keep photographs like that.”
“I need you to be certain.”
“He would not.”
“Certainty is dangerous in an investigation.”
The sentence hurt because it was true.
I had once been certain Alex would run toward me.
“Where is he now?”
“Being questioned.”
“Is he under arrest?”
“Not yet.”
Twenty minutes later, someone knocked.
Mark looked through the peephole.
“Police.”
Two officers stood outside with the daycare director.
Her face was pale.
“I need to speak with you,” she said.
“What happened?”
“A man came to the daycare this morning.”
My hands went cold.
“Grace wasn’t there.”
“We know. He claimed to be a city safety inspector.”
“The notice from yesterday.”
She nodded.
“He had identification. He asked to review our security cameras.”
“Did you let him?”
“For fifteen minutes.”
Mark cursed under his breath.
“What did he access?” I asked.
“Parent information. Pickup schedules. Emergency contacts.”
“Did he take anything?”
“We don’t know.”
Lena arrived as the director was explaining.
She showed us a still image from the daycare lobby camera.
The man wore a city jacket, baseball cap, and clear safety glasses. His face was partially visible.
He resembled Alex.
Not exactly.
But enough that a frightened witness might identify him.
“Height?” Lena asked.
“Approximately six feet.”
“Alex is six feet one,” Mark said.
The director covered her mouth.
“I thought it was him at first.”
“It wasn’t,” I said.
Lena studied me.
“You can’t tell from this image.”
“I know Alex’s face.”
The director began crying.
“I’m so sorry.”
“This is not your fault,” I said, although I was not sure I believed it.
At four, Alex was arrested.
The modules in his locker contained his fingerprints.
His access badge had been used to enter restricted areas in Atlas Tower on seven separate nights.
Messages on his company phone referred to “correcting the survivor mistake.”
The district attorney charged him with conspiracy, evidence tampering, and endangering a child.
Alex called me from the station.
“You have one minute,” a guard said in the background.
“I didn’t do this.”
I held the phone with both hands.
“Your fingerprints are on the modules.”
“I use training modules every day.”
“There are photographs of Grace.”
“I have never seen them.”
“Your badge entered the tower.”
“My badge disappeared for two days last month. Security issued a temporary replacement.”
“Did you report it?”
“To my supervisor.”
“Who?”
“Derek Walsh.”
Lena wrote down the name.
Alex lowered his voice.
“I know you have no reason to believe me.”
“That isn’t true.”
It surprised both of us.
I continued.
“I have reasons to believe you love Grace. I also have reasons to believe you hide the truth when you are afraid.”
“I’m not hiding anything now.”
“Then tell me something that proves it.”
He was silent for several seconds.
“Check the timestamp on the photographs.”
“Why?”
“The one from Grace’s doctor. I was in court that day for the custody hearing.”
“That proves you didn’t take one photograph.”
“It proves whoever created the file didn’t know where I was.”
The guard announced that time was over.
“Wait,” Alex said.
His voice changed.
“What?”
“Do not let Grace describe me to the police.”
“Why?”
“Because someone has been teaching her to connect me to the dark room.”
The line disconnected.
I turned toward Grace.
She was drawing at the coffee table.
“Sweetheart,” Lena said gently, “did anyone at daycare ever take you into a room without windows?”
Grace stopped coloring.
Her small fingers tightened around the crayon.
“Dark room.”
My chest tightened.
“Who took you there?” I asked.
Grace looked directly at me.
“Daddy.”
The room became silent.
“That’s not possible,” I said.
Grace shook her head.
“Daddy said be quiet.”
Mark crouched beside her.
“What was Daddy wearing?”
Grace pointed toward his fire department jacket.
“Like Uncle Mark.”
“A uniform?”
She nodded.
Lena showed Grace photographs of several men, including Alex.
Grace touched Alex’s photograph.
“Daddy.”
Then she touched the image of the fake inspector.
“Other Daddy.”
I leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
Grace frowned, searching for words.
“Other Daddy smell same.”
“Smell like what?”
She pointed toward the bathroom.
“Blue soap.”
Alex used cedar-scented blue soap.
Someone had copied his appearance.
His clothing.
His scent.
That evening, forensic technicians searched the daycare’s storage rooms.
Inside a locked utility closet, they found a child-sized chair, a red glove, and a bottle of Alex’s soap.
Taped beneath the chair was a printed message.
May you like
HE CHOSE THE WRONG WOMAN ONCE.
WE WILL MAKE SURE HE CHOOSES WRONG AGAIN.
