Chapter 4: The Man at My Front Door
“I'm here to take Lily home.””
Daniel Reed's voice carried through the front door with the calm confidence of a man who believed he had every right to be there.
I stood in the garage, clutching Marcus's notebook against my chest.
Lily was at school.
Daniel knew that.
So why had he said he was here to take her home?
I moved toward the narrow window beside the garage entrance. Through the glass, I could see the lower half of a man standing on my front porch. Dark trousers.
Heavy black shoes. One foot angled toward the door as if he were preparing to walk inside.
The same shoes I'd seen beneath Lily's bed.
My mouth went dry.
I backed away from the window and reached for my phone.
The unknown woman had warned me not to let Daniel know I'd found the notebook. But what was I supposed to do now? Stand quietly in my garage while a man who had been entering my home demanded access to my daughter?
I dialed 911.
Before the call connected, Daniel knocked again.
“Naomi, I know you're in there.””
I froze.
He couldn't possibly see me through the garage window.
Unless he had another way of watching the house.
I lowered my voice.
“Emergency services, please.””
The dispatcher answered, and I gave her my address. I explained that a man was at my front door, that he had entered my home without permission, and that I believed he might be connected to a threatening message.
“Ma'am, is the individual inside the residence now?”” she asked.
“I don't know. He was upstairs earlier. I saw his shoes.””
“Are you in a secure location?””
“I'm in the garage.””
“Stay where you are. Officers are being dispatched.””
I ended the call and listened.
A pause.
Then Daniel spoke again.
“Naomi, please open the door. We need to talk about Marcus.””
The mention of my husband nearly broke my concentration.
I pressed the notebook against my ribs.
“What do you want?”” I called from the garage.
Daniel went quiet.
Then he answered, “The truth.””
“You've been coming into my house.””
“I can explain.””
“You entered my daughter's bedroom.””
His voice hardened.
“Did you find the notebook?””
The question hit me like a slap.
I stared at the object in my hands.
He knew.
Somehow, he already knew.
I said nothing.
Daniel exhaled sharply on the other side of the house.
“Listen to me, Naomi. Marcus made a terrible mistake. Whatever he left behind, it isn't safe for you to keep it.””
“You expect me to believe that after sneaking into my home?””
“I didn't want to frighten you.””
“You came into my daughter's room!””
“I was looking for something Marcus hid.””
“And you thought breaking into a child's bedroom was acceptable?””
“I thought I had no other choice.””
I could hear him shifting his weight on the porch.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“Ask Lily what she remembers about the night your husband died.””
I gripped the workbench.
“What does Lily have to do with Marcus's death?””
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed. It sounded less confident, almost pleading.
“Marcus trusted me once. I gave him my word that I'd protect your family.””
“Then why did he write that you should never go near Lily?””
Silence.
I hadn't meant to reveal that I'd seen the photograph. The words had escaped before I could stop them.
Daniel's shoes scraped against the porch.
“You found the picture.””
I swallowed.
“What picture?””
“Naomi, please. There are things you don't understand.””
“Then explain them.””
“I can't do that here.””
“Why not?””
“Because someone is watching us.””
A vehicle passed on the street outside. Sunlight flashed across the garage window, and I caught the reflection of a dark SUV parked near the curb.
Its engine was running.
I couldn't see the driver.
“Is that your car?”” I asked.
Daniel didn't respond.
I heard another knock, lighter this time.
“Naomi, open the door.””
“No.””
“Please.””
“No!””
My voice cracked against the garage walls.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I heard footsteps retreating from the porch.
I hurried to the window.
Daniel was walking toward the driveway, his hands visible at his sides. He stopped beside the SUV, looked directly toward the house, and raised one hand.
Not a wave.
A warning.
Then he got into the vehicle.
The SUV pulled away before I could memorize its license plate.
I waited until the engine disappeared before moving.
The dispatcher had told me to stay put, and I knew I should listen. But my daughter was still at school, and Daniel had just suggested that she knew something about her father's death.
I called the school.
The receptionist answered cheerfully.
“Brookside Elementary. How can I help you?””
“This is Naomi Brooks. My daughter is Lily Brooks, in fourth grade. I need to speak to the office immediately.””
“Of course. Is everything all right?””
“No. Has anyone come to pick up my daughter?””
A pause.
“Not that I'm aware of.””
“Please check.””
I heard typing.
Then the receptionist's tone changed.
“Mrs. Brooks, someone called about Lily earlier.””
My stomach dropped.
“Who?””
“He said he was a family friend and that there might be a change to her pickup arrangements.””
“Did he give you his name?””
“Daniel Reed.””
I closed my eyes.
“Did you release Lily to him?””
“No, ma'am. We require written authorization for changes to a student's pickup list. He became upset when we explained that.””
My knees weakened with relief.
“Thank you. Please make sure nobody releases her to anyone unless I arrive in person.””
“Absolutely.””
I hung up.
A siren sounded somewhere nearby.
The police were coming.
I looked down at Marcus's notebook, then at the brass key on the concrete floor.
Whatever my husband had hidden, Daniel was willing to break into my home to find it.
He was willing to frighten my daughter.
And he had just tried to collect her from school.
But one question haunted me more than anything else.
Why had Daniel said Lily remembered the night her father died?
My phone vibrated.
A new message appeared from the unknown number.
*You must get to Lily before Daniel does.*
Then another message arrived.
*Ask her about the red door.*
I stared at the screen.
We didn't have a red door.
Not in our house.
Not in our garage.
Not anywhere on our property.
At least, I didn't think we did.
Then I remembered the one door in our house I had never been able to open.
May you like
The narrow wooden door behind the shelves in Marcus's old office.
The one he had painted red before he died.
