Chapter 6: The Truth About Violet

Kevin stared at the photograph until his eyes hurt.

Violet stood beside Gavin Mercer in the parking garage.

There was no mistaking her.

The cream coat.

The silver handbag.

The small birthmark near her jaw.

And there was no mistaking Gavin either.

They were facing each other.

Talking.

"Tell me this is fake," Kevin said.

Detective Cole remained silent.

"Tell me someone edited it."

"We checked the original file."

"And?"

"No signs of manipulation."

Kevin pushed the photograph away.

"There has to be an explanation."

"Probably."

"Violet wouldn't help someone kidnap Michelle."

"I didn't say she did."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying Violet Rae met Gavin Mercer twelve days before your girlfriend was abducted."

Kevin stood and began pacing.

"Maybe she didn't know who he was."

"Possible."

"Maybe he approached her."

"Also possible."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

Cole leaned against the table.

"Because you're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Finding an explanation for Violet before asking her for one."

Kevin stopped walking.

The words hit harder than he wanted to admit.

For years, Michelle had pointed out the same thing.

Violet called, and Kevin assumed she needed him.

Violet cried, and Kevin assumed someone else had hurt her.

Violet crossed a boundary, and Kevin explained why it wasn't really a boundary.

He had defended her so automatically that he rarely noticed himself doing it.

"Bring her in," Kevin said.

"Already sent officers to her apartment."

"What?"

"We need to ask her about Mercer."

"Did you tell her why?"

"No."

"Good."

Kevin picked up the photograph again.

"I want to be there."

"Absolutely not."

"Cole—"

"You're emotionally involved with both women at the center of this case."

"I need to hear what she says."

"And you will, when appropriate."

"That's not good enough."

"It has to be."

Kevin clenched his jaw.

"Then tell me the moment you know anything."

"I will."

Kevin left the station carrying Michelle's box.

He drove home for the first time since the explosion.

His apartment felt wrong.

Too clean.

Too quiet.

Michelle's slippers were still beside the couch.

A hair tie rested around the handle of a coffee mug.

Her favorite blanket was folded over the armchair.

She had been everywhere in his life.

Kevin had simply never understood how much space she occupied until she was gone.

He carried the box into his study.

Then he remembered the ring.

Kevin opened the bottom drawer.

The black velvet box was exactly where he had left it.

He opened it.

The diamond caught the light.

Six months ago, he had imagined Michelle crying when she saw it.

Happy tears.

He had imagined slipping it onto her finger.

He had imagined calling her his wife.

Now the idea felt almost cruel.

His phone rang.

Violet.

Kevin stared at her name.

He almost ignored it.

Then he answered.

"Kevin, what is happening?"

"Where are you?"

"Home. Two detectives just came here asking me to go to the station."

"Then go."

"Why?"

"You tell me."

Silence.

"Kevin?"

"Do you know Gavin Mercer?"

Another silence.

Longer this time.

Kevin's stomach sank.

"Violet."

"I can explain."

His eyes closed.

"So you do know him."

"Not like that."

"Like what?"

"Whatever you're thinking."

"I haven't told you what I'm thinking."

Violet didn't answer.

"Why did you meet him?" Kevin asked.

"Who told you I met him?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because this is insane."

"Answer me."

"He contacted me."

"Why?"

"He said he knew you."

"And you met a stranger who claimed to know me?"

"I didn't know who he really was."

"What did he want?"

"Nothing."

"Violet."

"He wanted information."

Kevin's fingers tightened around the phone.

"What information?"

"About you and Michelle."

Kevin felt cold.

"What did you tell him?"

"It wasn't important."

"What did you tell him?"

"That you were together."

"He already knew that."

"He asked whether it was serious."

"And?"

Violet hesitated.

"I said I didn't know."

"You knew."

"Kevin—"

"You knew we'd been together four years."

"Being together doesn't mean you're happy."

"What else did you say?"

"Nothing important."

"Stop deciding what's important!"

Kevin's voice echoed through the apartment.

Violet went quiet.

"Did you tell him where Michelle worked?"

"No."

"Where she lived?"

"No!"

"Her schedule?"

"Of course not."

"Then what did you tell him?"

"He asked whether you would choose Michelle if something happened to both of us."

Kevin stopped breathing.

"What?"

"It was just a weird hypothetical question."

"And you answered it?"

"I thought he was some journalist researching your old cases."

"What did you say?"

Violet's voice dropped.

"I said you'd choose me."

Kevin sat down slowly.

The room seemed to tilt.

"Why?"

"Because it's true."

"Was true."

"Kevin, don't do this."

"Did you tell him I always came when you called?"

Silence.

"Did you?"

"Maybe."

"Did you tell him Michelle hated it?"

"I said she was jealous."

Kevin covered his eyes.

"God."

"I didn't know he was dangerous!"

"Did you give him my schedule?"

"No."

"Think carefully."

"I didn't."

"Did you tell him where I'd be the day Michelle was kidnapped?"

"No!"

Kevin heard panic in her voice now.

"Then go to the police station and tell them everything."

"Come with me."

"No."

"Kevin, please."

"You don't need me there."

"I'm scared."

Those two words had controlled him for years.

I'm scared.

Come over.

Stay with me.

Don't leave.

Kevin waited for the familiar instinct to appear.

The urge to drop everything and run to Violet.

It came.

And for the first time, he refused to obey it.

"The detectives won't hurt you," he said.

"But I need you."

"Michelle needed me too."

Violet stopped speaking.

"Go to the station."

Kevin ended the call.

Three hours later, Cole called.

"We interviewed Violet."

"And?"

"Most of what she told us matches what she told you."

"How do you know what she told me?"

"Because you forwarded us the call recording from your home security system."

Kevin had forgotten his apartment automatically recorded connected calls when his home office system was active.

"Did she help Mercer?"

"Not knowingly, from what we can prove."

Kevin exhaled.

"Then she's innocent."

"Of the kidnapping? At this point, yes."

"At this point?"

"There's more."

"Of course there is."

"Mercer didn't approach Violet randomly."

"Why her?"

"Because he'd been watching you."

"We know that."

"He noticed your pattern."

"What pattern?"

Cole paused.

"Whenever Violet called, you changed your plans."

Kevin's stomach tightened.

"Mercer originally considered kidnapping Violet."

"What?"

"He believed she might be the person you cared about most."

"Then why Michelle?"

"Because he eventually found evidence of the engagement ring."

Kevin looked toward the velvet box on his desk.

"He realized Michelle was my girlfriend."

"More than that. He assumed you intended to marry her."

"So he chose her."

"Yes."

Kevin laughed bitterly.

"A criminal understood my relationship better than I did."

"There's another detail."

"What?"

"Violet told Mercer you would always choose her."

"She admitted that."

"Apparently that interested him."

"Why?"

"Because it gave him an idea for leverage."

Kevin went silent.

"Are you saying..."

"We think Mercer deliberately waited for a day when Violet would call you."

"How could he know when she'd call?"

"He couldn't."

"Then—"

"Unless someone encouraged her to."

Kevin stood.

"Who?"

"Mercer's accomplice sent Violet anonymous messages for several days before the kidnapping."

"About what?"

"Her cat."

Kevin froze.

"What about it?"

"Someone had been sending her messages claiming they'd seen the cat near different streets."

"The cat went missing before it got stuck in the tree."

"Exactly."

"Are you saying Mercer took the cat?"

"His accomplice admitted they moved it."

Kevin stared at the wall.

"They put it in the tree."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To make sure Violet called you."

Kevin felt sick.

It had all been planned.

Michelle's kidnapping.

Violet's panic.

The phone call.

Mercer had created a test.

And Kevin had failed it exactly as expected.

"But why?" Kevin whispered.

"Why make me choose?"

"Because Mercer wanted you distracted before Michelle called."

"So I'd be slower to understand what was happening."

"That's our theory."

Kevin closed his eyes.

"And Violet gave him enough information to know it would work."

"Without knowing what he intended, yes."

Kevin didn't know whether to feel angry at Violet or himself.

He settled on himself.

Mercer had weaponized a pattern Kevin had spent years creating.

The next morning, Michelle was moved out of intensive care.

Kevin learned from her mother that she was recovering faster than expected.

He didn't ask to visit.

He remembered Mrs. Hart's words.

Don't make Michelle responsible for making you feel better.

So he stayed away.

That afternoon, Michelle sat beside the window in her hospital room while her mother helped brush her hair.

"There's something I need you to know," Mrs. Hart said.

"About Kevin?"

"About Violet."

Michelle's hand stopped.

"What happened?"

Her mother explained the investigation.

The photograph.

Violet's meeting with Mercer.

The information she had unknowingly given him.

The cat.

Michelle listened without interrupting.

When her mother finished, Michelle stared outside.

"So Violet didn't plan the kidnapping."

"No."

"But Mercer used her."

"Yes."

Michelle gave a small, humorless laugh.

"Of course he did."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone knew Kevin would run when Violet called."

Her mother squeezed her hand.

"Honey..."

"I'm not angry anymore."

And strangely, she meant it.

"At Violet?"

"At either of them."

"How can you not be?"

Michelle looked down at the healing burns on her arm.

"Because anger still means I'm carrying them with me."

"And you don't want to?"

"No."

Her voice was soft.

"I almost died waiting for Kevin to choose me."

"I'm not spending the life I survived doing the same thing."

A nurse entered with a small envelope.

"Ms. Hart? This was left at reception for you."

Michelle frowned.

"From who?"

"Dr. Woods."

Her mother immediately stiffened.

"You don't have to read it."

Michelle stared at the envelope.

There was no bouquet.

No expensive gift.

No demand to see her.

Just her name written in Kevin's handwriting.

She opened it.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

Michelle, I finally read everything you were too afraid to say to me.

You were never asking me to abandon anyone.

You were asking me to stop abandoning you.

I understand that now.

I won't ask you to forgive me.

I won't ask for another chance.

I won't even ask you to reply.

I only want you to know that you were right.

You deserved to be chosen.

And I am sorry I understood that only after you stopped choosing me.

Kevin.

Michelle read the letter twice.

Then folded it carefully.

Her mother watched her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to throw it away?"

Michelle looked at the envelope for a long moment.

"No."

She placed it inside the bedside drawer.

Not because she wanted Kevin back.

Not because the apology fixed anything.

But because for the first time in four years, Kevin had apologized without asking her to comfort him afterward.

It was too late for their relationship.

But maybe it wasn't too late for the truth.

Her phone vibrated on the bedside table.

An unknown number had sent a message.

Michelle opened it.

Her blood turned cold.

You survived.

The second message arrived immediately.

Kevin won't.