Chapter 4 - THE SECOND PHONE
I didn’t sleep.
By sunrise, my living room looked like a command center.
Two detectives.
Coffee cups.
Notebooks.
Noah’s blanket on the couch.
Detective Marcus Hale arrived shortly after six.
He was tall, gray at the temples, and spoke like every word cost money.
“What date?”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“The message said move the date up. Do you know what date they’re talking about?”
“No.”
“Vacation? Appointment? School?”
“No.”
“Financial transaction?”
“No.”
Then I remembered something.
“My life insurance.”
Hale looked up.
“What about it?”
“Vanessa asked me about the policy two weeks ago.”
“What did she ask?”
“If Noah was the beneficiary.”
“And?”
“I told her yes.”
Hale’s expression didn’t change.
“What else?”
“She asked what would happen if Noah inherited money before he turned eighteen.”
My hands went cold.
“At the time, I thought she was just curious.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That the money would go into a trust.”
“Who controls the trust?”
I already knew where this was going.
My voice dropped.
“My spouse.”
The room became very quiet.
Hale leaned back.
“If you die while married to Vanessa, she potentially controls significant funds intended for Noah?”
“Yes.”
“How significant?”
“About nine hundred thousand dollars.”
Noah was upstairs.
Thank God.
Hale glanced toward Officer Ramirez.
She gave the smallest nod.
“What?”
Hale looked back at me.
“We found something else on the phone.”
“What?”
“A photo of your truck.”
“So?”
“The brake line.”
I didn’t understand.
Then I did.
My stomach twisted.
Three days earlier, my mechanic had called.
He said my front brake line had been damaged.
Not worn.
Damaged.
He’d assumed road debris.
I had believed him.
Hale slid a printed photo across the table.
It showed the underside of my truck.
There was a timestamp.
11:38 p.m.
Six nights ago.
The night I’d gone to bed early with a headache.
“Who took this?”
“We don’t know.”
I studied the picture.
Then I noticed something reflected in a chrome surface.
A shoe.
Black.
Large.
A man’s shoe.
“So there’s someone else.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“M?”
“Possibly.”
I stood.
“We have to find her.”
“We’re working on it.”
“She tried to kill me.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
I slammed my hand on the table.
“She tortured my son and someone cut my brake line!”
Hale didn’t flinch.
“You being angry is reasonable. You becoming reckless helps Vanessa.”
I hated him for saying it.
Mostly because he was right.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Hale lifted one finger.
“Speaker.”
I answered.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
Then breathing.
Then Vanessa.
“Daniel.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“Where are you?”
“You made a mistake.”
“I made a mistake?”
“You called the police.”
“You locked my son in a dog cage.”
“You don’t understand what he is.”
Hale was already signaling another officer.
Tracing.
I forced myself to stay calm.
“What is he, Vanessa?”
She whispered, “Dangerous.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I said, “He’s seven.”
“You think this is about punishment?”
“What is it about?”
A car horn sounded faintly on her end.
Then she said, “Ask Noah what happened at the lake.”
My eyes moved toward the stairs.
“What lake?”
Vanessa laughed once.
Softly.
“You really don’t know anything, do you?”
Then the call ended.
Hale looked at his officer.
“Location?”
The officer shook his head.
“Not long enough.”
I stared toward Noah’s bedroom.
I remembered a weekend trip Vanessa had taken him on while I attended a work conference.
A cabin.
A lake.
May you like
She said they had spent the weekend fishing.
Now, for the first time, I wondered if Noah had ever told me what really happened there.
