Chapter 13 - The Familiar Face
The second person was not a stranger in gray gloves. It was our neighbor, Mrs. Larkin, the woman who brought cookies at Christmas and watered our plants when we went away for a weekend.
Then investigators showed Mom a receipt from the storage unit and a photograph of Mrs. Larkin's car parked outside a nearby gas station. The payments were smaller than Ryan's, but they were regular.
Nolan said she had been approached about 'security checks' and claimed she thought she was helping a private investigator. That didn't make the photographs harmless. She had reported our visitors and the times Mom left for work.
"She gave me a birthday card," I said.
"I know," Mom answered.
"She wrote, 'You're growing up so fast.'"
Mom's mouth trembled. "Some grown-ups do wrong things while acting kind. I'm sorry you have to learn that this way."
Mrs. Larkin agreed to speak to authorities after being confronted with the receipts. Her account helped show how long Harlan's people had monitored us. The gray-gloved man, investigators learned, was Victor Harlan's private fixer, Dale Mercer. The name meant nothing to me, but I remembered the scar under his chin. I remembered him asking about my bus.
For days afterward I refused to stand near windows. I ducked whenever a car slowed on our street. Nina showed me how to name five things I could see, four things I could touch, and three things I could hear. Sometimes that brought me back to the room.
Then Mom made a choice that frightened me. She said she would testify in person against Harlan when the federal case reached court. She wouldn't leave Lena's photographs and Arthur's copy without a voice to explain them.
"What if somebody hurts you?" I asked.
She crouched in front of me. "That's why we have a protection team. And if you are scared, we're allowed to say so."
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On the evening before her first court preparation session, a news report came on the television. Victor Harlan stood outside his office, telling reporters Sarah Whitcomb was a disgruntled employee trying to ruin him.
Then he said, smiling, "Ask her husband what kind of woman she really is."
