Daniel was reading something on his tablet at the table.
Ava came downstairs at eight and poured herself cereal and sat across from him.
They exchanged a few words about the weather.
Normal.
Perfectly, horribly normal.
At 9:47, a car pulled into the driveway.
Daniel heard it.
He looked up from his tablet.
“Expecting someone?”
“My sister mentioned she might stop by,” I said.
I moved toward the front door before he could.
Detective Reyes was a compact man in a gray jacket, plain clothes, no uniform.
He had a second officer with him, a woman who introduced herself as Officer Chen.
Both of them had the particular stillness of people who do this for a living.
“Mrs.
Calloway,” Reyes said quietly.
“Is he inside?”
“Kitchen,” I said.
“He doesn’t know.”
“Keep him calm.
We’ll take it from here.”
They stepped inside.
Daniel heard the footsteps and looked up from the kitchen doorway.
He saw Reyes and Chen, and something moved across his face — fast, controlled, almost invisible.
If I hadn’t been watching for it, I would have missed it.
“Mr.
Calloway,” Reyes said.
“I’m Detective Reyes.
I have some questions about an incident from five years ago.
I’d like you to come with us.”
Daniel set his tablet down very carefully.
“What kind of incident?”
“The accident on Route 9 in October.
The one involving your daughter Chloe.”
A pause.
One full second.
“That case was closed,” Daniel said.
His voice was even.
Reasonable.
