Page 70 of The Gallagher Place
“He’s upstairs resting,” Henry snapped.
“We’ll wake him.” Ariel’s voice was cool. “We’re placing him under arrest for suspected involvement in Nora Miller’s abduction.”
Placing a hand over her chest, Marlowe opened her mouth to protest but found no words. The detectives were already moving toward the stairs.
Henry slammed his hand on the granite counter. “How dare you. You have nothing concrete—just scraps and theories!”
“Henry, why was he wearing boots?” Marlowe was ashamed of her plaintive, wailing tone. But she felt her world slipping away from her. “What did Enzodo?”
“Nothing, I swear. He didn’t do anything.” His eyes were wide with manic confidence. “I told them there was a man in the woods, I told them over and over, but they never believed me. Enzo said they never would believe me.”
“That’s just a story, Henry,” Marlowe said. “You believed it when you were young; you can’t still believe it now.”
“There’s an old house in the woods,” Henry said. “I can’t explain now, but I found it with Nate. There was a man living there the night Nora died—that man was living in the woods.”
Marlowe closed her eyes. Her brother didn’t realize how crazy he sounded.
Moments later, the detectives returned with Enzo in between them. He looked dazed but calm. His eyes met Henry’s first.
“They say I must go with them.”
Henry rushed forward. “I’ll be right behind you. It’ll be all right, we’ll get a lawyer. Don’t say a word until then.”
As they led Enzo out, Kat and Dolly burst in from the yard, voices overlapping in a chorus of questions that no one answered.
Marlowe stood frozen, watching Enzo disappear through the front door.
“You believe me, right?” Henry said. “She was here all the time—there are a million ways his DNA could have been on her bracelet. They’re just trying to make this fit. They don’t care about the truth. They only care about their careers.”
She wanted to believe him. Detectives always had a broader agenda, and solving this cold case would be a significant bargainingchip for their next career moves. But Henry didn’t seem interested in the truth anymore either; he was looking to obscure it.
The office door swung open and Stephanie burst into the hallway clutching her phone, her face pale. Constance followed with Frankie in her arms.
“The sheriff’s department showed up in Hartford,” Stephanie said. “They’re bringing in Nate for questioning.”
Marlowe heard the car door slam shut and the detectives’ cruiser idle out of the driveway. And then the room fell silent. It felt like the ground beneath the Gray House had cracked open and sent them all plummeting into endless darkness.
THIRTY-THREE
Henry paced the living room, barking into the phone, his shoes thudding over the patterned rug. He’d been dialing law offices since the detectives left. When he finally hung up, he’d secured a top New York lawyer, already en route to Poughkeepsie.
Marlowe stood frozen until Henry turned to her, and she dropped into an armchair, fingers gripping the edge of the floral brocade.
“What happened to Nora?” she asked.
Henry sighed and raked his hair back. “I’ve always wanted to tell you.”
“Then tell me now.”
“I don’t know what happened to her.” Henry lifted his hands to reveal his palms, helpless. “But Enzo, he used to walk at night. Sometimes he’d go out, just to keep an eye on things. And he knew about the man in the woods.”
“Mr. Babel?”
“No, not Mr. Babel.” Henry sank onto the couch across from her. “That was a story. This man was real.”
“You saw him?”
“Glimpses,” Henry said. “I never spoke to him.”
