Chapter 4 - THE ROOM BEHIND THE WALL
Officer Ortiz stepped between us.
“Ma’am, I need you to stop talking to the child.”
Rachel’s face changed.
“Who are you?”
“Officer Ben Ortiz.”
“This is a family matter.”
“No longer.”
Michelle scoffed.
“Seriously?”
Ortiz ignored her.
Rachel pointed at me.
“My husband is upset because he travels too much and feels guilty.”
I actually laughed.
It came out wrong.
Sharp.
Ugly.
“You drugged our son.”
“I did not.”
“Then why did you just tell Lily to say she got into your medicine cabinet?”
Rachel’s eyes flickered.
“Because she has before.”
“She’s five.”
“Kids do things.”
Dana entered the hall.
“Rachel Carter?”
Rachel turned.
“Yes.”
“I’m with child protective services.”
For the first time, Rachel looked scared.
Not guilty.
Scared.
There’s a difference.
I began noticing differences that night.
Meanwhile, police searched the house.
Ortiz received updates by phone.
At 11:14 p.m., he asked me to step into a private room.
“They found the locked door.”
“And?”
“It wasn’t storage.”
My chest tightened.
“What was it?”
“There was a staircase behind it.”
I stared at him.
“A staircase?”
“Down into a converted crawlspace.”
My stomach turned.
“We don’t have a basement.”
“Apparently you do.”
He showed me one photograph.
That was enough.
A narrow concrete room.
Bare bulb.
Old mattress.
Plastic bins.
A baby bottle.
Two children’s blankets.
And a small pink backpack I recognized immediately.
Lily’s.
I sat down.
“No.”
Ortiz didn’t say anything.
“How long?”
“We don’t know.”
“No.”
I rubbed my face.
“She said it was storage.”
“Mark.”
I looked up.
“There’s more.”
He slid another photograph onto the table.
A camera mounted in the corner.
Pointed directly at the mattress.
My body went cold.
“What is that?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“What the hell was she recording?”
“We’re pulling the storage card.”
I stood.
“I need to see that room.”
“Not tonight.”
“That’s my house.”
“It’s now an active crime scene.”
I stared at him.
Those words made everything real.
Crime scene.
My home.
My children’s home.
Rachel was placed in a separate room for questioning.
Michelle kept insisting it was all a misunderstanding.
Then police found something in Rachel’s car.
A duffel bag.
Inside were clothes.
Cash.
Two passports.
Rachel’s.
And Tommy’s.
No passport for Lily.
Ortiz looked at me carefully.
“Did you know your son had a passport?”
“No.”
“Did you sign an application?”
“No.”
He nodded slowly.
“That’s a problem.”
Then his phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
“They got the video off the basement camera.”
My heart pounded.
“What’s on it?”
He looked toward the door where Lily was sleeping.
May you like
Then back at me.
“Your wife isn’t the only adult on the recording.”
