“I lied.”
“You repeated what your father told you.”
“That lie buried her.”
“No. The men in that video buried her.”
A sound came from the front porch.
Both of us went still.
A key entered my lock.
Only three people had keys to my house.
Rosie.
Ben.
My father.
Daniel closed the laptop and pulled his gun.
The door opened.
My father stepped inside.
He carried a paper grocery bag.
“Claire?”
He saw Daniel.
The bag slipped slightly in his arms, then steadied.
“Detective Mercer.”
“Mr. Hale.”
“What are you doing in my daughter’s house?”
Daniel moved between us.
