CHAPTER 15: THE WOMAN EVERYONE TRUSTED
When I was a child, Patricia brought casseroles to sick neighbors and organized the annual holiday donation drive.
She was the kind of woman adults praised for knowing everybody’s birthday.
She also knew whose marriage was failing and whose teenager had gotten into trouble.
I had mistaken her interest for kindness because everyone around me did.
Hannah found that Patricia’s volunteer role had ended shortly after Owen’s custody case.
The archived newsletter gave no reason.
I called the former program director, who was retired and living in Florida.
She would not discuss confidential records.
She did confirm that volunteer advocates could be removed from a case if their judgment or boundaries became a concern.
“Did that happen to Patricia?” I asked.
“I can’t answer that,” she said.
Her refusal told me nothing legally.
It told me only that I needed to stop treating every silence as proof.
That evening, Mrs. Bell came to my porch with a casserole dish covered in foil.
I almost laughed at the familiar gesture.
She said she had watched Patricia become more isolated after Martin left.
“She used to believe every problem had a solution if she worked hard enough,
” Mrs. Bell said.
“Then she started believing every problem was somebody else’s fault.”
Mrs. Bell had something else to show me.
Her camera had recorded a person walking past my porch the night the school photograph arrived.
The figure wore a hooded sweatshirt, and the angle did not reveal a face.
But the person carried a canvas tote printed with the logo of the local church thrift shop.
Patricia volunteered there on Thursdays.
I sent the footage to Ortiz.
She thanked me and reminded me that a tote bag was not an identification.
I knew she was right.
I also knew someone wanted me to be afraid inside my own house.
