Ethan stared at it.
His face slowly changed.
“That's me.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get that?”
“It was found during the investigation.”
Ethan zoomed in.
“Who took it?”
“We don't know.”
“When?”
“Three weeks before the incident.”
Ethan looked at his mother.
“Why would someone take a picture of me?”
Margaret wished she had an answer.
“We're trying to find out.”
Ethan stared at the photograph again.
Then something occurred to him.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“I remember that day.”
Margaret leaned closer.
“What happened?”
“I was at the park with Jordan.”
“Was anyone following you?”
“I don't know.”
“Think carefully.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“I remember someone sitting in a car.”
“What kind of car?”
“Dark-colored SUV, I think.”
“Did you see the driver?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
Ethan thought.
“There was someone standing near the coffee shop across the street.”
“Man or woman?”
“Woman.”
Margaret's expression changed.
“Did you see her face?”
“Not clearly.”
“Was it Carol?”
“I don't know.”
Ethan looked frightened.
“Mom, was she watching me?”
Margaret took his hand.
“We don't know that yet.”
“But my name was on her list.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Margaret looked directly into his eyes.
“We're going to find out.”
The investigators returned to the private building across from the park.
The building housed several small offices.
At the front desk, they asked about security cameras.
The manager, an older man named Peter Lawson, immediately became cooperative.
“We have cameras facing the street,” he said.
“Can we review footage from three weeks ago?”
Peter frowned.
“That far back?”
“We believe an incident occurred.”
He checked the system.
“Most footage is automatically overwritten after thirty days.”
The investigator exchanged a glance with his partner.
“Then we may still have it.”
Peter led them into a small security room.
Several monitors displayed different angles of the building.
The investigator entered the date.
Then the approximate time.
The screen filled with footage.
Cars.
Pedestrians.
Bicycles.
People walking into the building.
Then, at approximately 3:40 p.m., Ethan appeared.
He walked toward the park.
The investigators watched carefully.
A dark SUV was parked across the street.
The vehicle remained stationary.
Two minutes later, a woman exited the SUV.
She stood near the sidewalk.
The investigator zoomed in.
The image wasn't perfect.
But the woman's clothing was visible.
Dark coat.
Large handbag.
Short hair.
The investigator paused.
“Can you enhance this?”
Peter shook his head.
“Not enough resolution.”
They watched as the woman raised something in her hand.
A phone.
She appeared to take a photograph.
Then she returned to the SUV.
The vehicle drove away.
The investigator rewound the footage.
Again.
And again.
Then he noticed something else.
The woman hadn't arrived alone.
A second vehicle had been parked farther down the street.
A white sedan.
Its driver never left the car.
The investigator wrote down the license plate.
“Let's run this.”
At the police station, the license plate was entered into the database.
The result appeared on screen.
The vehicle was registered to a man named Thomas Whitmore.
Carol's husband.
The room went quiet.
“That's her husband?”
“Looks like it.”
The investigator called Chief Brooks.
Within minutes, the information reached Margaret.
She read the report twice.
“Carol's husband was there?”
“His vehicle was.”
“Do we know whether he was driving?”
“Not yet.”
Margaret thought carefully.
“Find out.”
That evening, Carol's attorney returned to her house.
She opened the door reluctantly.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“I need to speak with you.”
“About the photograph?”
He nodded.
Carol's face became pale.
“You know about that?”
“The police know.”
Carol stepped backward.
“I didn't take it.”
“Did you ask someone to?”
She didn't answer.
Robert stared at her.
“Carol.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Then explain why your husband's vehicle was parked across from the park that afternoon.”
Carol's eyes widened.
“He wasn't following anyone.”
“Then why was he there?”
“He was running an errand.”
“Where?”
Carol hesitated.
“I don't remember.”
Robert sighed.
“You need to start remembering.”
Carol became angry.
“You don't understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
She turned away.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Finally, she whispered:
“I was worried.”
“About Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Carol's eyes remained fixed on the window.
“I had seen him before.”
“Where?”
“At the park.”
“And?”
“He was always alone.”
“That isn't a crime.”
“I know.”
“Then why photograph him?”
Carol didn't answer.
Robert's voice became firmer.
“Did you believe he was dangerous?”
“I didn't know.”
“But you documented him.”
“I wanted to remember.”
“Remember what?”
Carol turned around.
Her expression was defensive.
“I wanted to know who was coming into the neighborhood.”
Robert stared at her.
“Why?”
Carol folded her arms.
“Because things were changing.”
“What things?”
She didn't respond.
Robert looked at her for a long moment.
Then he asked the question that Carol had been avoiding.
“Were you specifically watching Black teenagers?”
Carol's eyes moved away.
That silence was answer enough.
Meanwhile, Margaret sat in her office late into the evening.
Eleanor Price was still there.
So was David.
The three of them were reviewing the twenty-three names.
One by one.
Incident by incident.
Some names had appeared once.
Others appeared repeatedly.
Several teenagers had been reported three or four times.
Eleanor recognized many of them.
“I remember this one,” she said.
“Who?”
“Darius Bell.”
Margaret looked at the file.
“What happened?”
“He was sixteen. Played basketball at the park.”
“Complaint?”
“Noise.”
“Was there noise?”
“Teenagers playing basketball.”
Margaret sighed.
“Another.”
Eleanor pointed to another name.
“Michael Lewis.”
“What about him?”
“He used to walk his little sister home.”
“Complaint?”
“Suspicious behavior.”
Margaret shook her head.
Then Eleanor stopped.
Her finger rested on another name.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“I know this person.”
“Who?”
Eleanor looked at Margaret.
“Jordan.”
Margaret froze.
“Ethan's friend?”
Eleanor nodded.
“His name is on the list too.”
Margaret immediately found the file.
There it was.
Jordan Miller — observed near park — frequent afternoon visits.
Margaret stared at the words.
“Did Carol know they were friends?”
“We don't know.”
David opened another file.
“Actually…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“There is a note.”
Margaret looked at him.
“What does it say?”
David read it carefully.
Often accompanies Ethan Hayes.
The room became silent.
Margaret's expression changed.
“She was watching both of them.”
David nodded.
“And she knew they were together.”
Eleanor looked troubled.
“This is no longer just about random observations.”
Margaret closed the folder.
“Find out who gave her the information.”
David frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Someone knew their names.”
She looked at the list.
“Someone knew where they went.”
She pointed to Ethan's entry.
“And someone photographed my son.”
Margaret stood.
“This wasn't spontaneous.”
David nodded slowly.
“It may have been planned.”
The following morning, investigators interviewed Thomas Whitmore.
He arrived at the station alone.
He looked exhausted.
The investigator placed a photograph of the dark SUV on the table.
“Is this your vehicle?”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
“Were you driving it three weeks ago near Lincoln Grove Park?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was meeting someone.”
“Who?”
Thomas looked down.
“My wife.”
“Did you know she was watching Ethan?”
Thomas didn't answer.
The investigator leaned forward.
“Mr. Whitmore, your vehicle was recorded at the park. A woman matching your wife's description exited the vehicle and photographed a teenage boy.”
Thomas rubbed his forehead.
“I didn't know she was going to take a picture.”
“But you knew she was concerned about him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Thomas sighed.
“She thought he was causing trouble.”
“Did you believe that?”
“No.”
The investigator looked up.
“No?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I told her he was just a kid.”
The room went quiet.
“Then why did you help her?”
Thomas looked ashamed.
“I didn't think it was serious.”
“Did you know she had a list of teenagers?”
“No.”
“Did you know she had contacted police about them?”
“I knew she'd called before.”
“How many times?”
Thomas hesitated.
“I don't know.”
“Did you ever tell her to stop?”
He looked down.
“No.”
The investigator closed the folder.
“Why not?”
Thomas finally looked up.
“Because I was afraid of arguing with her.”
Later that afternoon, Margaret received the transcript of the interview.
She read it in silence.
When she finished, she placed it on the desk.
“So her husband knew.”
David nodded.
“Apparently.”
“But he says he didn't know about the list.”
“We're still verifying that.”
Margaret looked out the window.
She wasn't interested in revenge.
She wasn't interested in destroying Carol.
She wanted answers.
Most of all, she wanted Ethan to understand that what happened wasn't his fault.
Her phone rang.
It was the police chief.
“Mayor.”
“Yes?”
“We found something else.”
“What?”
“There was a second camera.”
“Where?”
“Inside the coffee shop across from the park.”
Margaret straightened.
“And?”
“The manager gave us the footage.”
“Does it show Carol?”
“Yes.”
“What was she doing?”
The chief hesitated.
“She wasn't alone.”
Margaret's eyes narrowed.
“Who was with her?”
“We don't know yet.”
“Why?”
“Because the person was wearing a hood.”