Chapter 6 - DAVID'S SECRET
I put the phone on speaker.
Detective Bennett immediately began recording.
“David,” I said, “tell me where you are.”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you know.”
He breathed heavily.
“I saw her making the cookies last night.”
Emily stood beside me.
“What cookies?”
“The peanut butter ones.”
My stomach turned.
David continued.
“Sarah made two batches.”
“Why?”
“She said Matthew wanted them.”
“Did she know Noah was coming?”
“Yes.”
“Did you remind her about his allergy?”
Silence.
“David?”
“Yes.”
Emily closed her eyes.
I felt something inside me crack.
“What did she say?”
“She said his reaction wasn't serious.”
Bennett stepped closer to the phone.
“David, this is Detective Laura Bennett.”
He went silent.
“We need you to come in.”
“No.”
“If you witnessed something relevant to a child being harmed, running won't help you.”
“I didn't hurt Noah.”
“Then help us establish what happened.”
David exhaled.
“Sarah has been angry at Emily for months.”
I looked at Emily.
“Why?”
“Because of Matthew.”
David explained.
Matthew had been having behavioral problems at school.
Sarah blamed everyone except Matthew.
Teachers.
Other parents.
The principal.
Emily.
And eventually Noah.
According to Sarah, Noah was the reason Matthew had started getting in trouble.
Because teachers compared them.
Noah had good grades.
Matthew struggled.
Noah was quiet.
Matthew wasn't.
None of that should have mattered.
But Sarah had turned comparison into resentment.
David said he had heard her complain about Noah constantly.
“Perfect Noah.”
“Golden Noah.”
“Everybody's favorite.”
My son was eight.
Eight.
David's voice became quieter.
“Last night she said something.”
“What?”
“She said tomorrow Matthew was going to have one day without Noah stealing attention.”
Emily sat down.
I couldn't.
I kept standing because if I sat, I thought I might never get up again.
“Did she say she would hurt him?”
“No.”
“Did she mention the basement?”
“No.”
“Then why did you leave?”
Another long silence.
“I didn't leave.”
Bennett's eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I came back.”
“We saw you on the kitchen camera.”
David sounded surprised.
“You have that?”
“Yes.”
He cursed quietly.
“Then you saw me arguing with her.”
“What were you arguing about?”
“I heard Noah downstairs.”
My jaw tightened.
“You heard him?”
“Yes.”
“And you left him there?”
“I tried to get Sarah to open the door.”
“Tried?”
My voice rose.
Bennett touched my arm.
I pulled away.
“You're a grown man, David.”
“I know.”
“You heard an eight-year-old kid locked downstairs and you tried?”
“I screwed up.”
“That doesn't begin to cover it.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
David started crying.
I didn't care.
Not then.
Maybe that sounds cruel.
But my son had been alone on concrete while two adults debated whether he deserved a door opened.
David finally said:
“There's something else.”
Of course there was.
“There always is.”
“When Sarah took Noah's phone, I saw where she put it.”
“The drawer.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I took it later.”
I looked at Bennett.
“The police didn't find it.”
“I have it.”
Bennett immediately spoke.
“David, that phone may be evidence.”
“I know.”
“Where are you?”
He gave her the address of a motel outside town.
Bennett sent officers.
Before he hung up, I asked one final question.
“Why did you take Noah's phone?”
May you like
David's answer was barely audible.
“Because Sarah tried to smash it with a hammer.”
