“I was hoping,” he said, “you wouldn’t play the tape.”
My gaze dropped to the chest.
Second compartment.
Bennett stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“Give me the recorder, Anna.”
“Why?”
“Because Carl was confused near the end.”
“He said you would claim that.”
A faint smile crossed Bennett’s face.
“Of course he did.”
The first light of sunrise appeared through the window, turning the lake silver.
Bennett moved closer.
I backed toward the fireplace.
Then a loose letter shifted beneath my shoe, revealing a tiny metal latch at the bottom of the chest.
The second compartment.
I knelt and pulled it open before Bennett could stop me.
Inside was a modern phone connected to a portable battery.
Its screen lit immediately.
A live call was already in progress.
The contact name displayed only one word:
MOTHER.
Bennett went pale.
From the phone’s speaker came the sound of someone breathing.
