Lena — the following week
Vivienne had put the album on the table. It was finished now. Amy had gone home on Sunday, and the dog had resumed the other chair as though its brief occupation by a daughter had been an inconvenience he was prepared to forgive.
“I'm not showing you pictures,” Vivienne said. “I moved it so you'd have room.”
Lena put the case update in the space she'd made. She went through what could properly be shared: Ray's claimed contact, the unprompted private detail that matched Vivienne's earlier recorded account, the building and route checks. There was still no identified place she could give her. The older investigation would continue; she gave the name of the person who would maintain direct contact and explained what work was still active. Nadia and June's accounts, the cabin and the independent records supported the present case. None of that closed Elise's absence.
Vivienne listened without interrupting until Lena said the exact site remained unknown.
“He knew it,” she said.
“I believe he had more to tell us.”
“Why did he stop?”
“He requested counsel after I left. Detective Shaw stopped the questioning.”
“You left.”
“I went to the search.”
Vivienne looked at the pages, then at the album beside them.
“Was somebody hurt? Did they need you?”
“There was an active search with people doing the work. I had offered to be there with Nadia for part of her return. She asked me to come.”
“And you couldn't go later.”
“I chose to go then. Detective Shaw stayed and was ready to continue.”
“But he wouldn't talk to him.”
“He chose to stop.”
Vivienne sat back. Lena could hear the rest of the account ready in her own voice: how useful the interview had already been, how uncertain the next answer was, how the drawing had not yet identified one place. She could give every qualification and none would answer why Vivienne should be glad of the choice.
“You said you'd remember I was waiting,” the woman said.
“I did remember.”
Vivienne's face changed. It would have been easier to hear that Lena had forgotten. Lena had not. She looked at the dog because the woman had looked away and there was nowhere in the room that didn't belong to her.
“I've brought what I can give you now,” she said. “I will answer your questions about it.”
Vivienne asked several. They were exact, practical questions about the account and the continuing work, not invitations to say she was sorry again. Lena answered what she could, marked what needed to come through the other investigator and made sure those requests went to him before she left. Vivienne kept the page with the contact details. She did not keep the broad sketch; it wasn't a place she could go, and she didn't want to give it room on her table.
At the door Lena asked how the weekend had been.
“Amy finished the book,” Vivienne said. “We gave the tickets to somebody she knew.”
“I'm glad you had her here.”
Vivienne held the door. “I'll call him,” she said, lifting the contact page. “The one you've given me.”
Lena said yes. She went to the car without another question.
Later her father called about the vehicle for his chair. He had two dates and wanted an answer before the rental office closed. Lena opened her calendar. One day had a commitment she couldn't move. The other she could make work.
“Wednesday,” she said. “Tell me the time and I'll be there.”
“I've got to be out early. Can you do early?”
She said she could. He read her the arrangement he wanted, and she wrote it down. He had the vehicle, someone to meet them at the other end and a plan for the things she would have started trying to arrange. When she asked whether he needed anything else, he said he needed her to eat before they started.
“What time?”
He told her again, adding fifteen minutes for breakfast. She put that in the calendar too. Afterward he wanted to know whether she'd seen the picture he'd sent of the new room. She hadn't opened it. She did while he stayed on the phone, and asked which wall he meant to put the chair against.