Chapter 3 - Fire in the Apartment
“Call the fire department.”
Officer Ramirez did not hesitate.
Officer Bennett radioed dispatch while I reopened the camera feed.
The kitchen remained black.
The living room camera was still active.
The man moved through the apartment quickly.
His name was Victor Hale.
He had worked for my mother for six years.
He drove her to charity luncheons.
He carried her shopping bags.
He waited outside restaurants while she stayed inside for hours.
At family gatherings, he barely spoke.
Now he was inside my apartment at one thirty in the morning with a gasoline can.
“Can you lock the doors remotely?” Officer Ramirez asked.
“No.”
“But I can trigger the alarm.”
“Do it.”
I pressed the emergency button.
A siren screamed through the apartment.
Victor looked directly at the camera.
Then he ran toward the hallway.
The front door camera captured him leaving with the gasoline can still in his hand.
“He didn’t pour it,” Maya whispered.
“Not yet.”
Officer Ramirez spoke into her radio.
“Suspect exiting the location.”
“Male, approximately fifty, dark clothing.”
“Possible arson materials.”
“Detain immediately.”
I watched the live street feed.
Victor emerged from the building.
A black sedan waited at the curb.
He opened the rear door.
Before he could get inside, two patrol cars turned onto the block.
Their lights flashed across the snow.
Victor dropped the gasoline can.
He ran.
The live video had no sound from the street, but the scene was clear.
One officer chased him toward Fifth Avenue.
Another moved toward the sedan.
The driver accelerated.
The car struck a parked vehicle and disappeared through the intersection.
Victor slipped on the icy sidewalk.
The officer caught him before he could stand.
I exhaled for the first time in nearly a minute.
Officer Bennett received an update.
“They have him.”
“What did he do inside?”
“They’re clearing the apartment now.”
“They found forced entry.”
“Nothing about fire yet.”
My phone rang again.
Unknown number.
Officer Ramirez nodded for me to answer.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice spoke quietly.
“Mr. Collins?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Ethan Reed.”
“I’m sorry to call this late.”
“How did you get my number?”
“Your sister gave it to me.”
I glanced at Maya.
“Why?”
“I think you need to know what your family has been doing.”
“Who are you?”
The man hesitated.
“I’m the person Chloe told the adoption agency would become Liam’s father.”
The prospective adoptive father.
My grip tightened.
“Were you at the consultation?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hold my son?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
I stood and walked toward the corner of the room.
“You held my child while his mother was unconscious.”
“We were told she had signed consent.”
“You were told I was dead.”
“Yes.”
“And you believed them?”
“We were shown documents.”
“Death records.”
“Medical paperwork.”
“A letter supposedly written by Maya.”
Maya looked at me.
“What letter?”
I placed the call on speaker.
Ethan continued.
“The letter said she couldn’t raise the baby.”
“It said she was struggling financially.”
“It said the father had died.”
“And it said the paternal grandmother was arranging everything to protect the child.”
Maya began shaking.
“I never wrote that.”
“I know that now,” Ethan said.
“How?”
“Because Chloe called me fifteen minutes ago.”
“She was panicking.”
“She said your mother needed us to confirm the placement had already happened.”
“What does that mean?”
“She wanted us to tell the police Liam had been voluntarily surrendered.”
Officer Ramirez moved closer.
“Mr. Reed, this is Officer Ramirez.”
“Are you willing to provide a statement?”
“Yes.”
“I saved every message.”
“Why are you helping us?” Maya asked.
Ethan’s voice cracked.
“Because my wife and I have spent six years trying to become parents.”
“And I will not build my family by stealing someone else’s child.”
No one spoke.
Then Ethan added something unexpected.
“There was another baby.”
I stared at the phone.
“What?”
“At the agency.”
“Another newborn.”
“Eleanor brought photographs.”
“She said there were two possible placements.”
“Your son and a baby girl.”
Officer Ramirez’s posture changed.
“Do you know the child’s name?”
“No.”
“But I heard Chloe call her Ava.”
Maya looked confused.
“I don’t know any Ava.”
Neither did I.
Ethan continued.
“The baby girl was in the office before Liam arrived.”
“She was with a young woman.”
“Maybe nineteen or twenty.”
“She kept crying.”
“Eleanor told us the girl was unstable.”
“She said the baby needed to be removed quickly.”
Officer Ramirez began typing.
“Did you see money exchanged?”
“Yes.”
“Mark gave an envelope to a man from the agency.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Greg.”
“That’s all I heard.”
The hospital door opened.
A pediatric nurse entered holding Liam.
His tiny body was wrapped in warm blankets.
Color had returned to his cheeks.
Maya reached for him immediately.
The nurse placed Liam carefully against her chest.
“He’s doing much better.”
“He finished almost an entire feeding.”
Maya kissed his forehead.
Her tears fell into his hair.
Ethan heard the baby through the phone.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I am so sorry.”
“You didn’t know,” Maya whispered.
“But now you do.”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll help.”
Officer Ramirez arranged to take Ethan’s formal statement.
Then the call ended.
I looked at Liam.
His fingers curled around Maya’s thumb.
He had no idea how close he had come to being handed to strangers.
My anger was no longer hot.
It had become precise.
“What happens now?” I asked Officer Ramirez.
“Victor will be questioned.”
“Miami police are being contacted.”
“We’re seeking emergency preservation orders for bank and phone records.”
“And your apartment is now a crime scene.”
Maya looked up.
“We can’t go home?”
“Not tonight.”
“Possibly not for several days.”
“Where are we supposed to go?”
I answered before the officer could.
“Nowhere near my mother.”
My phone displayed another message.
This one came from Victor.
Or someone using his phone.
I’m sorry. She said she would hurt my daughter.
I showed it to Officer Ramirez.
“Who is his daughter?”
“I don’t know.”
She photographed the message.
Then another arrived.
Check the freezer.
I called the officer at the apartment.
“Do not open the freezer until the crime-scene team arrives.”
He sounded confused.
“It’s already open.”
“What’s inside?”
“Nothing frozen.”
“Just a metal lockbox.”
I looked at Maya.
“Do you know about a lockbox?”
“No.”
The officer continued.
“It has your name on it.”
“My name?”
“David Collins.”
The box had been hidden behind the freezer drawer.
It was secured with a four-digit code.
I tried my birthday.
Wrong.
Maya’s birthday.
Wrong.
Our anniversary.
Wrong.
Then I thought of my mother.
She always used dates associated with control.
I entered the date my father died.
The lock clicked.
The officer opened the box while recording.
Inside were six passports.
My passport.
Maya’s passport.
Liam’s recently issued emergency travel document.
Chloe’s passport.
Mark’s passport.
And a passport belonging to someone named Ava Morales.
There were also birth certificates.
Bank statements.
Signed forms.
And three sealed envelopes filled with cash.
The officer lifted one document toward the camera.
It was a flight itinerary.
New York to Nassau.
Departing January second.
Passengers:
Eleanor Collins.
Chloe Baker.
Mark Baker.
Liam Collins.
Ava Morales.
Maya covered Liam’s ears as though the words could harm him.
“They were going to take him out of the country.”
Officer Ramirez nodded slowly.
“It appears so.”
“Why the Bahamas?”
I asked.
She did not answer.
But Officer Bennett did.
“Jurisdiction.”
My mother had planned to remove Liam from the country before I returned from Germany.
She believed I would not arrive until January sixth.
By then, Liam would have been gone for four days.
I would have found an empty apartment.
Maybe Maya would have been blamed.
Maybe she would have been declared unstable.
Maybe my mother would have claimed Maya had run away with the baby.
Except they had planned to take Maya’s passport too.
She would not have been able to follow.
My phone rang again.
This time, it was my company’s chief financial officer.
“David, I’m sorry to bother you.”
“What happened?”
“We detected unusual activity.”
“The two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar transfer request was blocked.”
“But there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Someone applied for a four-million-dollar line of credit using your company assets.”
“Who?”
“The paperwork carries your electronic signature.”
“I never authorized it.”
“I know.”
“The request originated from an IP address connected to a hotel in Miami.”
I looked at Officer Ramirez.
“My family tried to borrow four million dollars against my company tonight.”
The CFO continued.
“And David…”
“There is a second signature.”
“Whose?”
“Your wife’s.”
Maya looked up sharply.
“I didn’t sign anything.”
“I believe you,” I said.
The CFO lowered his voice.
“The line of credit lists your infant son as the beneficiary of a life insurance trust.”
“What life insurance trust?”
“A ten-million-dollar policy.”
The room went still.
“Who is insured?”
“You are.”
My mother had taken out a ten-million-dollar policy on my life.
My son was the beneficiary.
But Liam was eleven days old.
He could not control a trust.
“Who is the trustee?” I asked.
The CFO took a breath.
“Eleanor Collins.”
Maya stared at me.
The forged death documents at the adoption agency suddenly looked different.
My mother had already practiced declaring me dead.
The camera footage.
The adoption plan.
The Bahamas tickets.
The stolen passports.
The attempted loan.
The life insurance policy.
None of it was random.
It was a structure.
A plan.
Officer Ramirez’s phone rang.
She listened silently.
Then her eyes moved toward me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Miami police reached the resort.”
“And?”
“Your mother, sister, and brother-in-law are gone.”
“They checked out?”
“No.”
“They left their luggage.”
“Their phones are in the suite.”
“They used a service elevator twenty minutes ago.”
“How?”
“They knew police were coming.”
Officer Ramirez glanced at the message from Victor.
Then she asked the hospital to increase security.
The pediatric nurse took Liam’s bassinet away from the door.
My phone buzzed one final time.
A photograph appeared from an unknown number.
It showed my mother standing inside a private aircraft hangar.
Chloe was beside her.
Mark held a black duffel bag.
Behind them was a small jet.
The timestamp was two minutes old.
A message followed.
You chose her over us.
Then another.
Now let’s see what she chooses when we take you.
The lights in Maya’s hospital room went out.
The monitors switched to battery power.
Somewhere in the hallway, an alarm began to scream.
And through the narrow glass window in the door, I saw Victor’s daughter standing in a nurse’s uniform.
May you like
She looked directly at me.
Then she raised one finger to her lips.
