Chapter 5 - HIS MOTHER’S SECOND FACE
Police searched the house.
No one was inside.
Charlie was gone.
Brooke stood in the kitchen, hugging herself.
I kept thinking about Diane.
Her smile.
Her warning.
You have no idea what you just started.
“Could Grant’s mother have a key?” I asked.
Brooke looked at me.
“Yes.”
Officer Martinez turned.
“Does she come here often?”
“She used to.”
“Would she know where you keep valuables?”
“Yes.”
“Passwords?”
Brooke hesitated.
“She knows more than she should.”
That answer led to another.
And another.
By one in the morning, I had learned that Diane wasn’t simply a mother defending her son.
She had been part of the system.
When Grant and Brooke argued, Diane called Brooke and told her to apologize.
When Brooke tried to spend a weekend with friends, Diane accused her of disrespecting her marriage.
When Grant controlled their accounts, Diane called it “traditional.”
When Brooke complained about his temper, Diane said, “Men need peace at home.”
I felt my anger harden into something cleaner.
Understanding.
Grant hadn’t invented his cruelty from nothing.
He had been taught that control was love.
And his mother was still teaching it.
Brooke packed one suitcase under police supervision.
I found a framed wedding photo on the dresser.
Grant was smiling at the camera.
Brooke was looking at him.
At the time, I had thought it was romantic.
Now I saw something else.
She had always been watching him.
Waiting to read his mood.
“Mom.”
I turned.
Brooke was holding a small black object.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
It was attached underneath the dresser with tape.
Officer Martinez took it.
Her expression tightened.
“It looks like a tracker.”
Brooke went pale.
“A tracker?”
“Could be.”
She checked another room.
Then another.
We found a second device beneath her car.
That explained everything.
How Grant always knew when she stopped at my house.
How he knew she met Rachel for lunch.
How he knew when she took a different route home.
Brooke sat on the garage floor and started laughing.
Not because anything was funny.
It was the kind of laugh that comes when the truth is worse than your worst guess.
“He told me I was crazy.”
I crouched beside her.
“What?”
“He’d say things that proved he knew where I’d been, and then when I asked how he knew, he’d say I was paranoid.”
I wanted Grant to feel afraid.
I’m not proud of that thought.
But it was real.
The officer bagged the device.
Then another patrol car pulled up.
An officer walked toward us holding a leash.
Charlie came bounding around his legs.
Brooke screamed.
“Charlie!”
She dropped to her knees.
The dog nearly knocked her over.
She buried her face in his fur and sobbed.
The officer explained that someone had dropped Charlie at a twenty-four-hour animal clinic several miles away.
No name.
No explanation.
Just the dog.
He was unharmed.
Brooke held him tighter.
Then Officer Martinez’s phone rang.
She listened.
Her expression changed.
She looked at Brooke.
“Grant posted bond.”
My daughter stopped breathing.
“He’s out?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He’s out.”
Brooke stood slowly.
Her face had gone completely white.
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
May you like
One message.
I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE.
