Chapter 4: Evidence Has a Shape
1103 Words
The hallway was much cooler than the ballroom.
Lena heard the glasses clink behind her, murmurs of conversation playing like nothing was different now.
The walls in here were bare. White.
Ethan had his phone to his ear. He didn’t look towards Lena.
“Yes, I get it,” he said.
A pause. A little longer.
“No, not here.”
His jaw tightened. She sensed him hang up the phone and slip it back into his pocket, without looking.
Lena waited.
“What did they say?” She asked.
Ethan didn’t reply.
“They’d like to speak to you,” he eventually said.
Lena’s stomach sank. She leaned against the cool of the wall to stop it from just folding underneath her.
“Here?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then when?”
“Tonight.” Lena let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. The evening had been less than perfect, but it wasn’t now, and she would deal with whatever came next when it did. Probably.
“What footage?” she asked. “What does it show, exactly?”
Ethan stalled. Just a little bit, but Lena saw it.
“You, walking across the docks,” he said. “Close to my wife’s boat.”
“That’s not illegal.”
“No”
Ethan didn’t soften, but nor did he harden. His expression didn’t change.
“It puts you there less than twenty minutes before she goes into the water.” Lena’s ears buzzed.
“I left before then. I remember doing that.”
“Are you sure?”
Ethan wasn’t offering Lena any lifelines . He was asking questions.
“Are you?”
Memory began to arrive in fragments. Rain and coat. The scent of fish and oil. The feeling of the
dock creaking a little when she stepped upon it.
“I didn’t see her,” Lena said. “I swear”
“I didn’t ask if you saw her.”
She recoiled.
Footsteps echoed along the corridor. Security. Ruth appeared, her face tight.
“There are people asking questions,” Ruth said. “Reporters. Someone tipped them off.”
“Of course they did.” Ethan muttered.
He turned to Lena. “We’re leaving.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
“Your home.” Her stomach twisted.
“Yes.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t think she could.
They moved quickly. A different exit this time. Underground. The air was the smell of concrete and exhaust. The car door shut, trapping them inside, once more.
Lena stared at her hands. They wouldn’t stop shaking now. She crossed them beneath her thighs.
“You believe I did it,” she murmured.
Ethan didn’t respond immediately.
“I think,” he said slowly, “that in those logs you’re the last person who was recorded close to my wife when she died.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
Silence filled the space.
“Then why bring me here?” she asked. “Why not just let the police take me?”
“Because I need to understand what happened.” He looked out the window.
“And you think I’m not telling you something.”
“I believe you don’t know everything you think you know.
The car drove onto the estate. Gates closed behind them. Lights came on automatically, illuminating stone and glass and manicured hedges.
The house loomed ahead. Too big. Too quiet.
The air inside was cooler. Still. Like it had been waiting.
Ruth took Lena’s coat. “You’ll stay in the east wing,” she said. “Security will be nearby.”
Nearby.
Ethan walked ahead without looking back. Lena followed because there was nowhere else to go.
Her room was larger than her apartment. The bed sat perfectly made. A window looked out over the water in the distance.
The water.
Her chest tightened.
“In an hour someone will come for you,” Ruth said. “The police.”
Lena nodded. “Can I leave?”
Ruth paused. “Not alone.”
The door closed gently after her.
Lena pulled the covers around her and sat at the edge of the bed. The silence gnawed at her once more, more weighty than it had been.
She got up and went to the window.
The water was dark below them. Calm. It was nothing like the night she remembered.
A knock resounded.
Lena was startled.
The door opened before she could say anything.
Ethan came inside.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Lena said.
“I know.”
Ethan shut the door after him. The bolt clicked.
Lena’s heart was racing. “If the police are—”
“I sent them away,” Ethan said.
Lena’s throat was dry. “You what?”
“I told them that you weren’t ready.”
“That isn’t your decision.”
“It is,” Ethan said. “For now.”
He went further into the room. The room was filled with his presence. Lena felt it in her chest. Down her throat.
“Why?” Lena asked.
“Because I found something,” he said.
Her mouth was dry. “What?”
“Evelyn wasn’t alone that night,” he said.
Lena’s heart sounded too hard. “Then why are you looking at me like—”
“Because the second person on the footage was smaller,” Ethan said. “And had the exact same jacket as the one you had.”
Lena’s world tilted.
“I lost that jacket,” Lena said. “Months ago.”
Ethan just studied her. Quiet. Evaluating.
"There's more," he added.
“What else do you have?” Lena demanded.
“The footage ends the moment they step out of the camera,” he said.
Lena swallowed down her anguish. “So you couldn’t see them.
“No”
“That’s circumstantial.”
“Yes.”
“Then, why does it feel like you have already figured this out?”
He stared at her for long minute.
“I haven’t,” he said. “But I’m close.”
There was a noise that disturbed the moment. A sharp knock. Heavy.
Ruth’s voice on the other end. “Mr. Blackwood. The police are back.”
Ethan didn’t move.
“Ethan,” Lena whispered.
He faced the door, taking his time.
And just as he grabbed the handle, a voice rang out through the hallway.
“Mr. Blackwood,” the officer called. “We have a warrant.”
Lena’s legs went weak.
The handle turned.
And the door began to open.
- Writer
