Chapter 2 - THE WATCH IN HER HAND
The ambulance doors slammed shut just as I climbed into the back.
Felicity lay beneath a silver emergency blanket, her face almost completely hidden except for the bruising around one eye.
One paramedic worked over her while another checked her blood pressure.
“Sir, are you her father?”
“Yes.”
“Then stay where she can hear you.”
I sat beside her.
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Her fingers moved.
Barely.
But they moved.
I caught her hand.
The paramedic glanced at me. “Keep talking.”
So I did.
I told her about the birthday cake I had secretly ordered.
I told her I had planned to take her somewhere she had never been.
I even told her I had bought the ridiculous strawberry candy she liked when she was twelve.
Anything to keep my voice familiar.
Anything to give her a reason to stay.
Then I felt something hard beneath her palm.
I looked down.
A watch.
Not hers.
An old silver wristwatch with a scratched crystal and a brown leather strap.
Felicity’s fingers were curled tightly around it.
“Where did she get that?”
The paramedic looked at it.
“Probably grabbed it from whoever attacked her.”
My stomach tightened.
I carefully loosened Felicity’s fingers.
On the back of the watch were three tiny engraved letters.
R.B.
I knew those initials.
Not from my life.
From hers.
“That's my wife’s father’s watch.”
The paramedic looked at me.
“You’re sure?”
“I saw it years ago.”
Rachael had shown it to Felicity when she was little.
Her father, Robert Bennett, had worn it every day until the year he died.
R.B.
I stared at the scratched silver case.
Then I remembered something Felicity had once told me.
Grandpa's watch had disappeared after his funeral.
Rachael had spent years saying she had no idea where it went.
The ambulance turned sharply.
Felicity groaned.
I leaned closer.
“Baby?”
Her eyelids fluttered.
For one second, I saw her eyes.
Terrified.
Searching.
Then she whispered something so faint that I almost missed it.
“Dad…”
“I’m here.”
Her lips trembled.
“He knew…”
“Who knew?”
Her eyes closed again.
“He knew you were coming home.”
Then her body went limp.
“Felicity!”
The paramedics immediately moved around me.
“Sir, step back.”
I did.
But her words stayed in my head.
He knew you were coming home.
Not someone.
He.
Someone had known I was returning early.
Someone had known enough to be waiting.
At the hospital, they took Felicity directly into trauma.
A police officer met me in the corridor.
Detective Marcus Hale.
Mid-fifties.
Gray hair.
Quiet eyes.
He introduced himself without shaking my hand.
“I understand you found her.”
“Yes.”
“You’re military?”
“I was.”
“What branch?”
“Army.”
“Special operations?”
I looked at him.
He noticed.
“That answer tells me enough.”
I said nothing.
He opened his notebook.
“We need to establish whether this was an attempted burglary.”
“It wasn’t.”
He paused.
“You're certain?”
“Nothing was stolen.”
“We haven't finished the house.”
“Look at the alarm.”
“We did.”
“The system was disabled from inside.”
His expression changed slightly.
“You know that?”
“I know systems.”
He closed the notebook.
“Then tell me what else you noticed.”
I described the door.
The untouched jewelry.
The lemonade.
The backpack.
The alarm.
The watch.
He listened carefully.
Then he asked the question that changed everything.
“Did your daughter have any reason to expect someone today?”
“I don’t know.”
“Friends?”
“Yes.”
“Boyfriend?”
“I don't know.”
“Enemies?”
“She’s sixteen.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
I looked toward the operating room doors.
“No. It doesn't.”
Before Hale could continue, Rachael appeared at the end of the corridor.
She was still wearing her work clothes.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes found me first.
Then the police.
Then the closed doors.
She stopped walking.
“What happened?”
I crossed the hallway.
“Felicity is alive.”
Rachael covered her mouth.
“Is she—”
“She’s being treated.”
She started crying.
I caught her before her knees gave out.
For a moment, she buried her face against my chest.
Then she whispered,
“I should have been home.”
I looked down at her.
“What happened?”
“I had a late shift.”
“You left her alone?”
“She told me she had plans.”
“What plans?”
Rachael pulled away.
“I don't know.”
The answer landed strangely.
“You don't know?”
“She’s sixteen, Daniel.”
Her voice cracked.
“She doesn't tell me everything.”
Detective Hale stepped closer.
“Mrs. Bennett, did you give anyone permission to enter the house today?”
Rachael looked at him.
“No.”
“Did you give anyone your alarm code?”
“No.”
“Who knows the code?”
She hesitated.
I saw it.
Just half a second.
But I saw it.
“Rachael.”
She looked at me.
“My brother.”
“What brother?”
Her face went completely still.
“Evan.”
I had heard the name.
But only once.
Years ago.
“Evan Mercer?”
She nodded.
My jaw tightened.
“Why does your brother have our alarm code?”
“He helped us install the system.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Detective Hale wrote something down.
Then he asked,
“Where is he now?”
Rachael looked away.
“I don't know.”
That answer bothered me more than it should have.
Because Rachael had not said, “I haven't spoken to him.”
She had said, “I don't know.”
A nurse opened the trauma-room door.
“Family of Felicity Bennett?”
We turned.
“She’s stable for now.”
Rachael nearly collapsed with relief.
I closed my eyes.
For the first time since entering the house, I allowed myself to breathe.
Then the nurse added,
“But there’s something you should know.”
She held up a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a small silver bracelet.
A child's bracelet.
Red beads.
A tiny heart charm.
My daughter had worn it when she was seven.
I recognized it immediately.
But the nurse wasn't looking at me.
She was looking at Rachael.
“We found this under your daughter's fingernails.”
Rachael stared at it.
Her face lost all color.
Because I knew what she was seeing.
And so did she.
On the tiny heart charm were two engraved initials.
E.M.
Evan Mercer.
Rachael whispered,
“No.”
Detective Hale looked at me.
Then at her.
And suddenly the hospital corridor became very quiet.
“Mrs. Bennett,” he said softly, “you need to tell us everything you know about your brother.”
Rachael shook her head.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
She looked toward Felicity’s room.
“Because if Evan did this…”
Her voice broke.
“…then he wasn't looking for money.”
She swallowed.
May you like
“He was looking for something my daughter had.”
And from inside the evidence bag, the little red bracelet swung slowly from side to side.
