Chapter 4 - Lysandra’s Delay
I called Lysandra the next morning.
Not Ambrose.
“What are the keys?”
Silence.
“Lysandra.”
“I think they fit three padlocks.”
“Three?”
“One at our house.”
“The kennel?”
“Yes.”
“Where are the others?”
She took a breath.
“The lake house.”
My stomach dropped.
“And?”
“The detached garage.”
Ambrose had a large indoor dog run in the garage for bad weather.
I had seen it.
Rubber floor.
Wire enclosure.
Big enough for Baxter.
The lake house had a travel kennel.
Not small airline crate.
Large folding run.
Three enclosures.
Three keyed-alike padlocks.
Three keys.
Each labeled Callum.
“Why did you have them?”
“I found them two nights ago.”
“Two nights.”
“I didn’t understand.”
“His name was on them.”
“I understood something was wrong.”
There.
“Did you ask Ambrose?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to know before he lied.”
That was a rational-sounding sentence.
I hated it.
“So you waited.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“I searched his desk. The garage. His phone.”
“What did you find?”
“Not enough.”
“And meanwhile Callum came to your barbecue.”
Her voice cracked.
“I know.”
“No. Say it.”
“I should have called you.”
There.
Why didn’t she?
Because accusing Ambrose falsely would fracture forty years of marriage.
Because she had seen him use dog crates for training.
Maybe he had labeled a key for some practical reason.
Because she wanted evidence before detonating the family.
Because the barbecue was already planned.
Because people delay when the cost of certainty feels high.
Callum paid for those two days.
Not with injury.
With another confinement.
Lysandra knew that.
May you like
She never asked me to pretend otherwise.
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