Chapter 4: Echoes of Rebecca<\/p>\n
The hallway seemed to violently tilt on its axis. I grabbed the edge of the stair banister to keep from collapsing. The sterile scent of the bleach suddenly smelled like a graveyard.<\/p>\n
\u201cWas he\u2026 was Ethan investigated when she vanished?\u201d I choked out, the words tasting like ash.<\/p>\n
\u201cI cannot discuss the details of an open cold case, ma\u2019am,\u201d Miller deflected smoothly. \u201cI need to know exactly when you and Ethan commenced your romantic relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout seven months after she supposedly left him,\u201d I replied, doing the brutal math in my head. I had been the rebound. The safe, oblivious sanctuary he ran to after whatever happened to Rebecca.<\/p>\n
Suddenly, a patrol officer burst through the front door, his hand resting on his utility belt. \u201cBoss. Suspect vehicle spotted. He parked two streets over. He\u2019s approaching on foot.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSecure all entry points,\u201d Miller barked. \u201cKeep the women out of sight.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was shoved into the kitchen with Clare, the swinging door blocking our view of the foyer. I pressed my back against the refrigerator, holding my breath. Minutes ticked by like hours. Then, a heavy, hesitant knock echoed from the front door.<\/p>\n
I heard the door creak open. I heard the scuffle of boots on the porch.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan Pierce,\u201d an officer announced loudly. \u201cKeep your hands where we can see them.\u201d<\/p>\n
I strained to listen. I expected Ethan to yell for me, to demand an explanation, to throw a fit of righteous indignation about cops in his house. Instead, I heard Detective Miller\u2019s low voice say a single name.<\/p>\n
\u201cRebecca.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was no shout of denial. There was no desperate plea of innocence. There was only the horrifying sound of my husband\u2019s voice, flat and entirely defeated.<\/p>\n
\u201cI will not say another word without my attorney present.\u201d<\/p>\n
That singular sentence shattered the last fragile pane of glass in my mind. An innocent man screams from the rooftops. A guilty man calls a lawyer.<\/p>\n
The police did not drag him inside in handcuffs. They kept him detained in the back of a cruiser outside while the house was systematically dismantled. Hours bled into the late afternoon. Eventually, Detective Miller returned to the kitchen, laying out several glossy photographs on the island. They were images of the papers found inside the sealed pouch.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey aren\u2019t letters,\u201d Miller explained, tracing the edges of the images. \u201cThey are financial receipts.\u201d<\/p>\n
One receipt was for a long-term, cash-only rental at a remote storage facility, dated exactly six years ago. The second was a staggering invoice for professional-grade floor sanders, biological solvents, and heavy plastic sheeting, purchased a mere three days after Rebecca Lane was officially reported missing.<\/p>\n
But it was the third piece of paper that made the breath lodge in my throat. It was a crude, handwritten deed transfer. It listed the address of the very house we were standing in.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d I whispered. \u201cEthan bought this house through a standard real estate broker. It was a normal sale.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAccording to county property records, it wasn\u2019t a standard sale,\u201d Miller corrected. \u201cIt was an off-market transfer. And your husband didn\u2019t own this property when Rebecca vanished. Someone else did.\u201d<\/p>\n
He tapped a name printed at the bottom of the deed. Arthur Lane.<\/p>\n
I shook my head, lost. \u201cWho is Arthur Lane?\u201d<\/p>\n
Beside me, Clare let out a sharp gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. She stared at the paper as if it were a venomous snake. \u201cOh my god. I know that name.\u201d<\/p>\n
Miller looked at her sharply. \u201cFrom where, Doctor?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom forensics seminars,\u201d Clare breathed, her eyes darting between me and the detective. \u201cArthur Lane was a person of interest in multiple case studies regarding missing persons. He is\u2014he was\u2014Rebecca\u2019s father.\u201d
\n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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