Inside were several photographs, a faded scarf, and a child's drawing.
The drawing showed a house beside a river.
A dark line ran beneath the house, extending toward a large square structure with a door.
At the bottom, in uneven handwriting, were the words:
DADDY SAYS THE WATER GOES UNDER THE TOWN.
Bennett examined the drawing.
"Did Mrs. Bell leave a forwarding address?"
"No."
"Did anyone visit her?"
Patricia nodded.
"A man came twice. Tall, gray hair, expensive coat. He drove a black car."
I looked at Bennett.
The same car.
"Did you see his face?" he asked.
"Not clearly."
"Would you recognize him?"
"I think so."
Bennett showed her a photograph of Martin Cole.
Patricia shook her head.
"No."
Then he showed her an old photograph of Edward Mercer.
She went still.
"That's him."
Bennett lowered the photograph.
"You're certain?"
"Yes. He came here about a month before she left. They argued outside. I heard him say something about a promise."
"What promise?"
Patricia looked at the drawing.
"He said she had promised to keep the girl away from the water."
I stared at the child's handwriting.
Daddy says the water goes under the town.
The river.
The drainage tunnel.
The old chamber.
Everything was connected.
But I still didn't understand why Elena had disappeared.
Or why Edward Mercer had been visiting an elderly woman who might have been hiding her.
Bennett placed the drawing in an evidence folder.
"Do you know where Mrs. Bell went?"
Patricia shook her head.
"No. But she left a telephone number on the inside of the kitchen cabinet."
She led us to the kitchen.
The number had been written in blue ink, almost hidden behind a shelf.
Bennett copied it.
Then he called.
The line rang six times before someone answered.
A woman's voice came through, old and tired.
"Hello?"
Bennett identified himself.
"We're looking for Elena Ruiz."
Silence.
Then the woman said something that made him straighten.
"Who gave you this number?"
"Someone who knew Mrs. Bell."
"That isn't what I asked."
I stepped closer.
Bennett glanced at me.
"We have a photograph of Elena. We believe she may be connected to an investigation involving Briar Glen."
Another silence.
Then the woman spoke.
"Did you find the rabbit?"
I felt my pulse jump.
"Yes," Bennett said carefully. "We found a photograph of it."
"Then you have the wrong key."
Bennett looked at me.
"What do you mean?"
"The key in the rabbit was never the one Robert took."
My mouth went dry.
"Who is this?" I asked.
The woman heard me.
For a moment, there was only static.
Then she said:
"You're Robert Hale's son."
"Yes."
"I wondered when you would come."
"Where is Elena?"
"Elena is dead."
The words struck me like a physical blow.
"How?"
"She died in 2008."
"Where?"
"On the other side of the river."
Bennett motioned for me to stay quiet.
"Can you tell us who you are?" he asked.
"My name is Margaret Ruiz. I was Daniel's wife."
I gripped the edge of the counter.
"You're Elena's mother?"
"Yes."
"Why did you disappear?"
"Because the people who killed my husband wanted my daughter to disappear too."
"Did they kill Elena?"
The woman began to cry.
"No. Not directly."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she spent fourteen years believing her father had died because she had failed to keep a promise."
"What promise?"
Margaret's voice dropped.
"She promised Robert she would never tell anyone where she had hidden the real key."
Bennett leaned toward the phone.
"Mrs. Ruiz, where is it?"
"I don't know."
"Who does?"
"I thought Robert knew."
I closed my eyes.
"Then what was the key in the photograph?"
"A decoy."
I stared at the rabbit.
A decoy.
The key sewn into the rabbit was never meant to open anything.
It was meant to make someone believe they had found the evidence.
"Why would Elena carry a fake key?" I asked.
Margaret's answer came slowly.
"Because she knew someone was following her."
"Who?"
"Your father."
The kitchen seemed to tilt.
Denise had warned me.
Margaret continued.
"Robert was trying to protect her, but Elena didn't trust him. She thought he had taken her father's evidence and sold it to Harrow. She thought he was the reason Daniel never came home."
"Was she wrong?"
"I don't know."
"Did Robert hurt her?"
"No. But he lied to her."
"About what?"
"About Daniel's death."
I looked at Bennett.
He was no longer writing notes.
He was listening.