Chapter 5 - Somebody Was Waiting Upstairs
Police reached our townhouse first.
The front door was open.
Nothing had been stolen.
That made it worse.
Whoever entered had not come for money.
They had come for something specific.
Our bedroom was destroyed.
Mattress cut open.
Drawers emptied.
Books ripped from shelves.
My jewelry untouched.
Ethan's watches untouched.
The wall safe open.
Empty.
Ethan stared at it.
"What was in there?"
I looked at him.
"You really don't know?"
"No."
I had hidden one thing from him.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I had stopped knowing who was safe.
I walked to the closet.
A framed photo of my mother was broken on the floor.
Behind the frame, taped to the cardboard backing, had been a small envelope.
Gone.
My knees nearly buckled.
Victor caught my arm.
"What was it?"
"A key."
"To what?"
"My mother never told me."
Ethan stared at me.
"Your mother?"
I nodded.
"She gave it to me three days before she died."
Ethan went still.
My mother, Linda Parker, had died eight months earlier.
A fall down the stairs in her home.
An accident.
At least that was what I had believed.
Victor's expression changed.
"When did Margaret first start pressuring you?"
"After the funeral."
"Exactly when?"
"Two weeks after."
He and Ethan exchanged a look.
I hated it.
"What?"
Victor asked, "Did your mother ever work for Cole Medical?"
"No."
Then I remembered.
"Wait."
I opened an old storage bin.
Inside were tax papers I had taken from Mom's house.
I found a W-2 from 1999.
Employer:
Cole Medical Research.
Ethan sat down.
"Your mom worked for my family?"
"For six months."
Victor took the paper.
"Same year Rachel Quinn died."
A detective walked in.
"We found a camera."
It had been hidden inside our smoke detector.
Ethan's face went red.
"How long?"
"Hard to say."
The detective held up a tiny transmitter.
"Someone has been watching this room remotely."
My stomach turned.
Every conversation.
Every night I cried.
Every argument with Ethan about Margaret.
Possibly every moment since my mother died.
Victor said, "Can you trace it?"
"We'll try."
Another officer called from downstairs.
"Detective!"
We followed.
The kitchen wall had been marked with something black.
One sentence.
YOU HAVE WHAT BELONGS TO US.
Ethan looked at me.
"What do they think you have?"
"I don't know."
Victor stared at the words.
Then he looked at my mother's W-2 again.
"I do."
He turned to me.
"Your mother didn't give you a random key."
"Then what did she give me?"
"A way into the archive Rachel Quinn died trying to expose."
The detective's phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
"We've got a vehicle leaving the alley."
"What vehicle?"
"Black Mercedes."
Ethan whispered, "Charles drives a black Mercedes."
The detective nodded.
"We found blood in the passenger seat."
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Then he added:
"And Margaret's purse.
