Chapter 5: The Name She Didn't Want Me to See
I didn't know a Dr.
Harlan Voss.
But the call log showed three calls to that number in the last six hours.
The first one at 9:47 in the morning.
Sarah had texted me at 9:30 saying she was fine, just tired, staying home to rest.
"Who is he?" I said.
My mother reached for the phone.
I stepped back.
"Give me that.
You have no right—"
"Who is Harlan Voss?"
"He's a doctor.
A private physician.
I called him because Sarah wasn't well and I didn't want the fuss of an emergency room."
"A private physician you have on speed dial."
"I've known him for years.
He's discreet.
He's good."
"Where did he take her?"
"To a private clinic.
For observation.
She was dehydrated, she was—"
"Which clinic?"
She pressed her lips together.
I was already dialing the number.
It rang twice.
A man answered.
His voice was careful and professional in the way that some voices are when they have been trained to give nothing away.
"Voss."
"My name is Daniel Marsh.
I believe you have my wife, Sarah Marsh.
I want to know where she is and I want to know right now."
A pause.
"Mr.
Marsh.
I think it would be best if you came to speak with me in person."
"Tell me where."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"Your mother has my address."
I ended the call and looked at my mother.
She was very still.
"How long have you been planning this?" I said.
"I don't know what you think is happening—"
"How long?"
"I was protecting you.
Both of you.
Sarah has been struggling and she needed proper care, not—"
"She needed proper care so you had a private doctor take her somewhere without telling me.
Without telling her husband." I set the phone on the bed between us.
"That's not care.
That's something else."
She didn't answer.
"Lily saw everything," I said.
"She's six years old and she saw her mother fall and she saw you make a phone call and she ended up locked in a freezer.
I want you to explain to me how any of that is protection."
My mother sat down on the edge of the bed.
For a moment she looked old in a way she never had before.
But I had known her long enough to know that this too could be a performance.
"I'll take you to the address," she said quietly.
"I'll find it myself." I picked up Sarah's phone, her bag, and her keys.
"Don't leave this house."
She looked up.
May you like
"Daniel—"
I was already out the door.
