Chapter 3 - The Watch That Lied
Dominic carried the envelope downstairs at 2:00 a.m.
Evelyn was still awake.
Of course she was.
She stood at the kitchen island rolling dough.
Without looking up, she said, "If you're here to complain about the milk again, the answer is still no coffee."
Dominic placed the envelope on the counter.
She noticed his face.
"What happened?"
"I found this in Claire's room."
Evelyn wiped her hands.
"Did you open it?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You absolutely know."
Dominic stared at the handwriting.
If something happens, look.
Finally he opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Claire stood outside a roadside diner.
Behind her was Victor Hale.
The date printed on the photograph was two days before Claire disappeared.
On the back Claire had written:
Victor says Dominic cannot know yet. Find Deputy Harris if I don't come home.
Evelyn read it twice.
"Who's Deputy Harris?"
"I don't know."
"Victor?"
"You've met him."
"The silver-haired one who looks like he's angry at furniture?"
Dominic ignored that.
"Victor told police he hadn't seen Claire for almost a week before the crash."
"So he lied."
Dominic's gaze hardened.
"Or Claire wrote this at another time."
"The photograph has a date."
"Dates can be wrong."
"Dominic."
He looked at her.
"If you're going to investigate, investigate. If you're going to spend all night inventing reasons not to believe your own eyes, go back upstairs."
"You have a remarkable talent for irritating me."
"It's why Ruth recommended me."
He almost replied.
Instead he reached for his phone.
"Samuel."
Samuel answered on the second ring.
"It's two in the morning."
"Find a former sheriff's deputy named Harris. Worked Buncombe County seven years ago."
There was a pause.
"Claire's case?"
"Yes."
Samuel's voice changed immediately.
"I'll call you."
"No one knows."
"Victor?"
"No one."
Dominic ended the call.
Evelyn folded her arms.
"You trust Samuel."
"With my life."
"Did you trust Victor?"
Dominic didn't answer.
Evelyn understood.
"That much."
"Twenty-five years."
"And Claire?"
"Since before any of this."
"Then maybe start with the person who left you the warning."
Dominic looked again at her handwriting.
By noon Samuel had a name.
Deputy Thomas Harris.
Retired.
Living outside Hendersonville.
Dominic went alone.
At least, he intended to.
When his SUV reached the lower gate, Evelyn stepped into the road carrying a paper bag.
Dominic slammed on the brakes.
He lowered the window.
"Are you insane?"
"Probably."
"Move."
"You haven't eaten."
"I don't need lunch."
She held up the bag.
"Turkey sandwich."
"Evelyn."
"Take it."
He stared at her.
Then unlocked the passenger door.
She climbed in.
Dominic frowned.
"I meant give me the sandwich."
"I know."
"Get out."
"You said this concerns Claire."
"I said nothing to you."
"You called Samuel in my kitchen."
Dominic shut his eyes.
"I need quieter employees."
"You need smarter criminals."
Despite himself, he drove.
Thomas Harris lived in a small farmhouse beyond Hendersonville.
The retired deputy opened the door, saw Dominic, and immediately tried to close it.
Dominic blocked it with one hand.
"Seven years ago you investigated my wife's disappearance."
"I don't remember."
"You're lying."
"I said leave."
Evelyn stepped forward.
"Mr. Harris, we're not here to hurt you."
Harris looked at Dominic.
"That's easy for you to say."
Dominic spoke quietly.
"Tell me why Claire wrote your name."
The color disappeared from Harris's face.
"What?"
Dominic showed him the photograph.
Harris stared.
Then looked toward the road.
"Come inside."
They entered.
Harris locked the door behind them.
"You didn't hear this from me."
Dominic's patience vanished.
"My wife disappeared seven years ago. Don't waste another minute."
Harris swallowed.
"The car didn't make sense."
"What didn't make sense?"
"Everything."
Harris retrieved an old folder from a cabinet.
"The driver's door was open. There was blood on the seat, but not enough for the injuries everyone assumed she'd suffered."
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"The police told me—"
"The police told you what they were instructed to tell you."
"By whom?"
Harris hesitated.
Dominic stepped closer.
"Who?"
"The sheriff at the time."
"Why?"
"Because someone powerful made a call."
"Who?"
"I never knew."
Evelyn pointed to the folder.
"What happened to the evidence?"
"Some disappeared."
"What evidence?"
"A second set of tire tracks. A torn piece of dark wool caught on the guardrail. And something else."
Dominic leaned forward.
"What?"
"A witness."
The room became still.
Harris continued.
"A truck driver said he saw Claire standing beside another vehicle after the crash."
Dominic looked like he'd been struck.
"Standing?"
"Alive."
"What vehicle?"
"Black SUV."
"Did he identify anyone?"
"No. Fog was too heavy."
Dominic's voice dropped.
"Why wasn't I told?"
"The statement disappeared before morning."
Dominic turned away.
Seven years.
Seven years mourning a woman someone might have seen alive.
Evelyn touched his arm.
He flinched.
Not because of her.
Because his entire world had shifted.
Harris spoke again.
"There's something else."
Dominic turned.
"The watch."
"What about it?"
"The medical estimate everyone used for the crash came from that wristwatch."
Dominic slowly reached into his pocket.
He always carried it.
Harris stared at the scratched face.
"11:43."
"Yes."
Harris shook his head.
"The first emergency call came in at 11:18."
Dominic froze.
Evelyn whispered, "The watch didn't stop in the crash."
"No," Harris said.
"Then somebody broke it later."
Harris nodded.
Dominic's fingers closed around the watch.
For seven years, he had preserved 11:43 as the exact second his life ended.
But Claire's car had already been discovered twenty-five minutes earlier.
The watch had lied.
Or someone had made it lie.
Outside the farmhouse, Dominic called Samuel.
"Pull every record from Claire's case."
"I already started."
"And Samuel?"
"Yeah?"
"Find out where Victor Hale was the night she disappeared."
A long silence followed.
Then Samuel said, "You think Victor had something to do with it?"
May you like
Dominic stared into the mountain fog.
"I think Claire did."
