Chapter 4 - Aunt June Remembered the CoatJune Carter lived in Indiana.
Daniel called her at 1:12 in the morning.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Daniel?”
“Aunt June.”
Her voice changed immediately.
“What happened?”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Why do you assume something happened?”
“Because you haven’t called me after midnight since your father died.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I need to ask you about Ava.”
Silence.
Long enough that Rachel checked whether the call had dropped.
Then June whispered:
“What did Margaret do?”
Daniel went pale.
Rachel leaned closer.
“Why would you ask that?”
June exhaled slowly.
“Because I knew someday one of you would.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Aunt June, Lily said Mom put Ava in a suitcase.”
June didn’t speak.
“Aunt June?”
“I told Frank.”
Daniel’s voice dropped.
“Told him what?”
“That Margaret was cruel to her.”
Rachel felt anger rise.
“Did he believe you?”
“Eventually.”
June sounded older than her seventy-two years.
“But by then Ava was gone.”
Daniel put the phone on speaker.
Rachel introduced herself.
June knew Rachel but they had only met twice.
Margaret and June despised each other.
Now Rachel understood there might be a reason.
“What happened the night Ava disappeared?” Rachel asked.
June was quiet.
“I worked the dinner shift.”
“At the restaurant?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see Ava?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Late.”
“After Margaret supposedly confronted her?”
June hesitated.
“I don’t know what Margaret told police.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“She said Ava stole money and ran out the delivery entrance.”
June laughed bitterly.
“That was Margaret’s story?”
“You didn’t know?”
“Your mother made sure I was treated like a troublemaker.”
“What did you see?”
June’s answer came slowly.
“Ava was wearing a red coat.”
Daniel frowned.
“She didn’t own a red coat.”
“Yes, she did.”
“I remember her blue one.”
“Frank bought the red one two days before she disappeared.”
June’s voice shook.
“She loved it.”
Rachel asked, “Why is the coat important?”
“Because Margaret told police Ava left without a coat.”
Daniel went still.
“October in Chicago.”
“Exactly.”
“Why would she lie about that?”
June continued.
“I saw Ava downstairs around eight-thirty.”
“In the basement?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
Margaret.
Rachel already knew.
“With your mother.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What were they doing?”
“I couldn’t see clearly. I came down for canned tomatoes.”
June paused.
“Ava was crying.”
Rachel glanced at the suitcase.
“Did you see that suitcase?”
“No.”
“What did Margaret say?”
“She told me Ava was being punished and to go upstairs.”
“And you did?”
June’s shame was audible.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Margaret ran that place like a prison. Even adults obeyed her.”
Rachel understood.
She had felt that pressure herself.
June continued.
“About forty minutes later, I saw Margaret leave through the front.”
“Alone?”
“I thought so.”
“What do you mean?”
“She carried a large suitcase.”
Daniel’s breath caught.
Rachel stared at him.
“Black?”
“Yes.”
“How large?”
“Big enough that Frank teased her about it when they traveled.”
Rachel felt nauseated.
Daniel whispered, “Was Ava inside?”
“I don’t know.”
The answer was worse because it was honest.
June began crying.
“I’ve asked myself that for twenty-eight years.”
Rachel looked toward the evidence bag containing Ava’s note.
“Where did Margaret go?”
“She said she was taking laundry home.”
“With a suitcase?”
“I didn’t question it.”
“When did she return?”
“After midnight.”
Daniel frowned.
“And when did everyone notice Ava was missing?”
“Around ten.”
Rachel sat up.
“Wait.”
June continued.
“Frank asked where Ava was. Margaret said she had stormed out.”
“So Margaret returned after Ava was already reported missing?”
“Yes.”
“And nobody thought that was strange?”
“I did.”
“What did Margaret say?”
“That she had been driving around looking for her.”
Daniel’s voice cracked.
“But she hates driving.”
June became quiet.
“Exactly.”
Rachel looked at Daniel.
The bus ticket.
A large suitcase.
Margaret absent for hours.
June asked, “Why are you asking now?”
Daniel explained what had happened to Lily.
June began swearing.
Rachel had never heard a seventy-two-year-old woman swear so creatively.
Then June’s voice broke.
“She did it again.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
“She did it again.”
“What do you mean again?”
June sniffed.
“Ava told me once that Margaret locked her in things.”
Rachel’s stomach turned.
“Things?”
“Closets. The pantry. Once the walk-in freezer, but only for a minute.”
Daniel looked sick.
“I didn’t know.”
“You were a child.”
“She never told me.”
“She thought you’d tell your mother.”
June hesitated.
“She was protecting you.”
Daniel covered his face.
Rachel asked the next question.
“Why did Margaret hate Ava?”
June’s answer was immediate.
“Because Ava wasn’t hers.”
Rachel felt Lily’s situation lock into place.
“She hated that Frank had loved someone before her?”
“That was part of it.”
“What was the rest?”
June sighed.
“Frank intended Ava to inherit the restaurant.”
Daniel looked up.
“What?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
June sounded genuinely surprised.
“Your father wrote a will after Ava’s mother died. Ava was supposed to receive half of his ownership.”
Daniel stood.
“Half?”
“Eventually.”
“And after Ava disappeared?”
“Frank never changed it.”
Rachel’s pulse quickened.
“What happened when Frank died?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Mom said Dad left everything to the family trust.”
June laughed without humor.
“Margaret told you that?”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“Yes.”
“Your father and I stopped speaking years before he died, Daniel. But I know one thing.”
“What?”
“He never removed Ava from that will.”
Silence.
Rachel looked toward Margaret’s office upstairs.
A missing girl.
A suitcase.
A hidden bus ticket.
And now money.
“Do you have proof?” Rachel asked.
June hesitated.
“I might.”
Daniel’s head snapped up.
“What kind?”
“Before Frank died, he mailed me something.”
“What?”
“A copy of an old letter.”
“From who?”
“Margaret.”
Rachel felt her skin prickle.
“What did it say?”
June was silent.
Then:
“It was written three days after Ava disappeared.”
Daniel swallowed.
“Why would Dad send it to you?”
“Because he finally realized something.”
“What?”
June’s voice became low.
“The handwriting on Ava’s runaway note…”
May you like
She paused.
“Looked exactly like your mother’s.”
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