“I’m not going to hurt him.”
“I know.”
She opened her eyes.
“I need you here.”
So I stayed.
That evening, Detective Chen returned with another update.
Marcus had been located at Carter Freight’s main office.
He denied ever entering our house.
He said he had been at a charity dinner across town all evening.
There were photographs of him there.
Dozens.
For a moment, it sounded like an alibi.
Then Chen placed one more photograph on the table.
A traffic camera image.
Marcus’s SUV.
Leaving the charity event at 10:46 p.m.
He did not return until 1:31 a.m.
And cell-tower records placed his phone less than half a mile from our house during the missing hours.
Chen looked at me.
“We’re getting a warrant.”
But Marcus had already done something none of us expected.
At 6:12 that evening, his phone went dark.
And by the time officers reached his apartment, he was gone.
WHAT BLEACH COULDN’T ERASE
For the next thirty-six hours, Marcus Carter disappeared.
His attorney insisted that he was not fleeing.
He simply needed time.
Detective Chen had a different opinion.
His passport remained in his apartment, but one company SUV was missing.
His credit cards stopped being used.
His phone was found in a dumpster near I-65.
Richard claimed he didn’t know where his son was.
For once, I believed him.
Mostly because Richard looked like a man who had finally realized he no longer controlled the disaster he had helped create.
He asked to see Sophia.
She refused.
