We returned to Chicago shortly before dawn.
I slept for forty minutes in a secure interview room with my head against Mom’s shoulder.
When I woke, Detective Hayes was standing in the doorway.
His expression told me something else had happened.
“What?”
“Valerie wants to talk.”
Mom immediately said, “No.”
Hayes entered.
“She specifically asked for Chloe.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I agree.”
That surprised both of us.
“Then why tell us?” Mom asked.
“Because she says she knows what Derek did after the bracelet plan failed.”
Mom stood.
“Then she can tell you.”
“She refuses.”
“Let her refuse.”
Hayes looked at me.
“She says she’ll speak only if Chloe is present.”
Mom stepped between us.
“No.”
I understood her fear.
But Valerie had already used me as part of her plan.
I wanted to hear her explain herself while looking at me.
“I’ll go.”
Mom turned.
“Chloe.”
“With you there.”
“Valerie said alone.”
“I don’t care what Valerie said.”
Hayes nodded.
“Neither do I. Rachel stays. Ortiz stays. Interview is recorded.”
Mom reluctantly agreed.
Valerie looked terrible.
No makeup.
Hair tied back.
Same clothes from the previous day.
She looked smaller without the confidence she usually wore around our family.
When I entered, she stared at me.
“You came.”
Mom sat beside me.
Valerie’s mouth tightened.
“I said Chloe alone.”
Mom answered, “You forfeited the privilege of giving instructions.”
Valerie looked at Hayes.
He shrugged.
“Talk or don’t.”
For a moment I thought she would refuse.
Then she lowered her head.
“Derek lied to Bishop.”
Hayes sat forward.
“About what?”
“The box.”
“What specifically?”
“He told Bishop he had opened it.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
That was the day Derek and Valerie tried to access it.
“But he didn’t,” I said.
“No.”
“Why lie?”
“Because Bishop was losing patience.”
“Who is Bishop?”
Valerie shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Mom laughed bitterly.
“You keep committing felonies for people whose names you don’t know.”
“I dealt with Derek.”
“Derek dealt with Bishop?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever hear Bishop’s voice?”
“Once.”
Hayes leaned forward.
“When?”
“About two months ago.”
“Male or female?”
Valerie hesitated.
“Male.”
“Age?”
“I don’t know. Voice was distorted.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked whether Rachel still had Samuel’s papers.”
Mom’s expression hardened.
“And you answered?”
“I said probably.”
“What else?”
“He asked about Chloe.”
Mom’s jaw tightened.
“What did you tell him about my daughter?”
“Her age. School.”
“You gave them her school.”
Valerie looked ashamed.
Mom’s chair scraped backward.
Hayes held up a hand.
“Rachel.”
She stayed seated, barely.
I asked, “What was Derek afraid to tell Bishop?”
Valerie looked at me.
“That your grandfather changed the bank instructions.”
“What change?”
“The law-enforcement witness requirement.”
Hayes frowned.
“Why would that matter?”
“Because Derek believed Samuel did it after discovering someone in the department was involved.”
That made sense.
Grandpa had not chosen a police witness because he trusted police blindly.
He had chosen one because opening the box would force a police officer into the chain of evidence.
A witness Bishop might have to reveal himself around.
Hayes understood too.
“The box was bait.”
Valerie nodded.
“Derek called it a trap.”
Mom whispered, “Dad knew.”
“Samuel suspected.”
“How do you know?”
“Derek found an old letter.”
“What letter?”
Valerie looked toward the camera.
“From Thomas.”
My heart accelerated.
“Where?”
“Samuel’s old apartment.”
Mom frowned.
“We cleared that place after Dad died.”
“Not everything.”
“What did you take?”
Valerie looked embarrassed.
“I went back before the lease ended.”
“Of course you did.”
“I was looking for money.”
Mom closed her eyes.
Valerie continued.
“I found a loose floorboard in his bedroom.”
Hayes asked, “What was under it?”
“Letters. Some cash. A key.”
“What key?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is it?”
“Derek took it.”
“Describe it.”
“Small brass key. Number 214 stamped on it.”
Hayes wrote that down.
“And the letters?”
“One mentioned Bishop.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did it say?”
Valerie tried to remember.
“Thomas wrote that Elena had hidden Bishop’s identity somewhere connected to the first case they worked together.”
Hayes looked at Mom.
“Do you know what that was?”
“No.”
Valerie continued.
“Thomas said Vale would remember the evidence number.”
Hayes stopped writing.
“Evidence number?”
“Yes.”
“The thing that cannot change,” I whispered.
Dad’s cabin letter.
Trust neither memory nor rank. Trust the thing that cannot change.
An evidence number.
Hayes stood.
“We need Vale.”
Valerie grabbed his attention.
“There’s more.”
He sat again.
“Go.”
“Derek figured out where the old case files were stored.”
“Where?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“What did he find?”
“A photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“I never saw it.”
“But?”
“After he saw it, he panicked.”
“Why?”
“He said Bishop wasn’t who Richard told him.”
Hayes went still.
“What does that mean?”
“Derek grew up believing Bishop was Doran.”
The retired deputy superintendent.
“But Dad’s email said Bishop wasn’t Doran,” I said.
Valerie nodded.
“Derek learned that too.”
“How?”
“The photograph.”
Hayes asked, “Did Derek identify the real Bishop?”
“No.”
“He must have suspected someone.”
“He did.”
“Who?”
Valerie looked frightened.
“He wouldn’t say the name.”
Mom slammed her palm against the table.
“Then why are we here?”
“Because I heard what he said afterward.”
We waited.
Valerie swallowed.
“He said, ‘He was at Thomas’s memorial.’”
My skin prickled.
Mom stared at her.
“What?”
“Derek said Bishop attended Thomas’s memorial service.”
Mom’s face went blank.
“That was thirteen years ago.”
“I know.”
“Hundreds of people came.”
“I know.”
“Police. Friends. Coworkers.”
“I know.”
Hayes asked, “Do photographs exist?”
Mom nodded slowly.
“My father took pictures.”
“Where are they?”
“At home.”
The apartment had already been searched.
But Mom remembered something else.
“Copies.”
“Where?”
“Thomas’s mother.”
My grandmother had died when I was six.
Her belongings went to storage.
Mom still paid for the unit because she could never bring herself to sort everything.
Hayes asked, “Location?”
“South Side.”
Valerie suddenly leaned toward me.
“Chloe.”
Mom stiffened.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at her.
The words felt tiny.
Useless.
“For which part?”
Her eyes filled.
“I thought they’d question Rachel, release her, and I’d take care of you for a few days.”
“You knew they wanted the box.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Derek was watching me.”
“Yes.”
“And you still did it.”
Valerie started crying.
I felt almost nothing.
“I was angry at your mother.”
“That doesn’t explain me.”
“No.”
“You gave them my school.”
She looked down.
“Yes.”
I finally understood something adults often seemed determined to complicate.
Valerie could love me and still have betrayed me.
One truth did not erase the other.
That made forgiveness harder, not easier.
Hayes’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
“Vale is awake.”
We went directly to the hospital.
Hayes asked him about Elena Ward’s first case with Thomas.
Vale’s expression changed.
“You found the letter.”
“What evidence number?”
Vale stared at the ceiling.
“214.”
Mom looked at Hayes.
The brass key.
Number 214.
“What was Evidence 214?” Hayes asked.
Vale closed his eyes.
“A cassette tape.”
I frowned.
“A tape?”
“Recorded interview.”
“With whom?”
Vale opened his eyes.
“A confidential informant.”
“Name?”
“Sealed.”
“What did the informant say?”
“Claimed police officers were protecting financial crimes tied to city contractors.”
“Did Elena believe them?”
“Yes.”
“Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the tape?”
“Disappeared.”
Hayes’s jaw tightened.
“From evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Who signed it out?”
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“Nobody.”
Vale breathed carefully.
“The evidence log was altered.”
“By Bishop?”
“We assumed.”
“Where does Key 214 fit?”
Vale frowned.
“I don’t know about a key.”
Mom explained what Valerie found.
Vale’s face changed.
“Locker.”
“What locker?”
“Old courthouse evidence annex.”
Hayes stood.
“That building closed years ago.”
“Basement storage remained.”
“Are there numbered lockers?”
“There were.”
“Two fourteen?”
Vale nodded.
“Elena used one for personal case materials.”
Hayes looked at Ortiz.
“We go now.”
Vale grabbed his sleeve.
“Wait.”
Hayes stopped.
“If the key survived, somebody wanted that locker found.”
“Samuel?”
“Maybe Elena.”
“What are we looking for?”
Vale stared at me.
“A tape recorded fourteen years ago.”
“And if it’s still there?”
Vale’s face tightened.
“Then you may finally hear Bishop’s real voice.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: Locker Two-Fourteen Held Elena’s Missing Tape, but the Voice Naming Bishop Came From Someone Sitting Beside Us
The Morning I Lied About Being Sick Became the Morning I Saw My Aunt Betray My Mother
Part 11 of 24
