Chapter 5
I tried to get out of the hospital bed.
The nurse stopped me.
“No.”
“My husband is missing.”
“And you are eight months pregnant recovering from a serious medical emergency.”
“I don’t care.”
“Your baby does.”
That stopped me.
I hated her for being right.
Detective Morales had already left.
Two officers remained outside my room.
I called Ethan.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
My hands shook so badly I dropped the phone.
Thirty minutes later, Morales called.
“We found Ethan.”
I nearly collapsed with relief.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“At the storage facility.”
“What happened?”
“He was locked inside an empty unit.”
I closed my eyes.
“Warren?”
“We believe so.”
“Is Ethan hurt?”
“Bruised. Nothing serious.”
“What did Warren take?”
“Several documents from Rachel’s box.”
My relief disappeared.
“Which documents?”
“We’re still inventorying.”
“Then he knows what she had.”
“Yes.”
“And he knows police are after him.”
“Yes.”
I gripped the phone.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Morales went quiet.
“Detective.”
“There was a message written on the wall of the unit.”
My mouth went dry.
“What message?”
“For Ethan.”
“What did it say?”
Another pause.
Then she told me.
Your wife will finish what Rachel started.
I stared at the hospital window.
Nashville spread out beneath me.
Cars.
Buildings.
People living ordinary lives.
Somewhere out there was Warren.
And he knew exactly what I was becoming.
Not a victim.
A witness.
A threat.
“Bring Ethan here,” I said.
“Emily—”
“Bring him.”
He arrived an hour later with a bruise across his jaw and dust on his shirt.
I had never been happier to see anyone.
I had also never been angrier.
He walked toward me.
I wrapped my arms around him before I could stop myself.
For several seconds, I just held him.
Then I pulled back.
“What happened?”
“Warren was waiting inside.”
“You saw him?”
“Only for a second.”
“What did he do?”
“He hit me from behind.”
Ethan touched his jaw.
“When I woke up, I was locked in.”
“You could have been killed.”
“I know.”
I started crying.
He reached for me.
This time I let him.
Not because everything was forgiven.
It wasn’t.
But fear had stripped away the luxury of pretending I didn’t still love him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For today?”
“For seven years ago. For yesterday. For every time I made protecting my mother easier than protecting my wife.”
I closed my eyes.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
“I know.”
“But I need you alive.”
“I know.”
We sat silently.
Then Detective Morales entered.
She had photographs from the storage unit.
“Warren took Rachel’s journal.”
Ethan’s face tightened.
“Anything else?”
“Several financial pages.”
“What did he leave?”
“Enough.”
She placed copies on the table.
Rachel had organized everything by date.
Every strange interaction.
Every unexplained visit.
Every financial discovery.
And then I saw a name.
Vanessa Cole.
“Rachel’s friend?”
Ethan nodded.
“She’s the one who gave me the box.”
Morales looked at him.
“When did you last speak with her?”
“At Rachel’s funeral.”
“Seven years ago?”
“Yes.”
Morales flipped a page.
“Rachel trusted her.”
“She did.”
“Then we need to find her.”
Ethan frowned.
“Why?”
“Because of the line about another copy.”
Somewhere Diane would never search.
My pulse quickened.
“Vanessa.”
Morales nodded.
“Maybe.”
She made a call.
Twenty minutes later, she returned.
“We found her.”
“Where?”
“Memphis.”
“Did she answer?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Morales looked almost surprised.
“She said she has been waiting seven years for Ethan to call.”
Ethan looked sick.
Morales continued.
“She also said Rachel left her something.”
My heart pounded.
“What?”
“She won’t discuss it over the phone.”
“Why?”
“She says she doesn’t trust phones.”
That sounded like someone who had known Rachel well.
Morales arranged for officers in Memphis to bring Vanessa to Nashville.
She arrived just after midnight.
The moment she entered my room, she looked at Ethan and stopped.
Vanessa was in her early forties.
Short dark hair.
Tired eyes.
No makeup.
She stared at my husband with a kind of anger that didn’t need words.
“You look the same,” she said.
Ethan stood.
“Vanessa.”
“Don’t.”
His face fell.
She walked past him and looked at me.
“You’re Emily?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes dropped to my stomach.
“Boy or girl?”
“Boy.”
She swallowed.
“Rachel was having a girl.”
Nobody spoke.
Vanessa sat beside me.
“I heard what happened.”
“I’m sorry you had to come.”
“I’m not.”
She looked at Ethan.
“I’m sorry I had to wait this long.”
Ethan lowered his head.
Vanessa turned back to me.
“Rachel knew she might die.”
The words chilled me.
“She told you that?”
“Not at first. At first she thought she was being paranoid.”
I glanced at Ethan.
Vanessa noticed.
“She wasn’t.”
“What did Diane do?”
“Small things.”
Vanessa counted them on her fingers.
“Moved medication. Threw away mail. Showed up at appointments she wasn’t told about. Somehow knew where Rachel had been.”
She leaned closer.
“Then Rachel found the money.”
“The trust.”
“Yes.”
“Why did she care?”
“Because she was an accountant. Numbers bothered her when they didn’t make sense.”
Despite everything, I smiled faintly.
Vanessa did too.
“That was Rachel.”
“What did she find?”
“Warren and Diane had been using shell companies tied to properties owned by the trust. They were moving money through fees, fake consulting agreements, inflated expenses.”
Ethan stared at her.
“Why didn’t she tell me all of this?”
Vanessa turned on him.
“She did.”
The room went silent.
“She told you over and over.”
“I didn’t understand—”
“You didn’t want to understand.”
Ethan said nothing.
Vanessa’s anger sharpened.
“She loved you. That was her biggest mistake.”
I flinched.
Ethan did too.
Vanessa immediately looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Don’t apologize.”
She reached into her bag.
Detective Morales stepped closer.
“What are you carrying?”
Vanessa removed a small key.
“Rachel gave me this three days before she died.”
“A key to what?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
Ethan looked up.
“Where?”
“She made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone until either Diane was arrested or Ethan finally believed her.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“I got tired of waiting for the second one.”
Morales asked, “What’s in the box?”
“I’ve never opened it.”
“Why?”
“Because Rachel made me promise.”
“Which bank?”
Vanessa handed her the key.
“Downtown.”
Morales looked at the clock.
“We’ll get a warrant and open it first thing in the morning.”
Vanessa nodded.
Then she reached into her bag again.
“But there’s something else you should know.”
She pulled out an old envelope.
“This wasn’t in the box.”
Ethan recognized the handwriting immediately.
“Rachel.”
Vanessa nodded.
“She gave it to me the same day.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“Because it wasn’t for you.”
She handed it to me.
My name wasn’t on it.
Only four words.
For whoever comes next.
My chest tightened.
I opened it.
Inside was one page.
If Diane ever hurts another pregnant woman, it means Warren still has something to lose.
He is more dangerous than she is because Diane acts from obsession.
Warren acts from calculation.
If you are pregnant, do not let them make this about the baby alone.
The baby is the deadline.
The evidence is the reason.
I read the final line twice.
Then three times.
I looked at Morales.
“What evidence?”
Vanessa answered instead.
“Rachel told me she found something bigger than stolen money.”
“What?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Why not?”
“She said if I knew, I’d be in danger too.”
Morales asked, “Did she give you any clue?”
Vanessa thought for a moment.
“One.”
“What?”
“She said Warren wasn’t afraid of prison for fraud.”
My heartbeat increased.
“What was he afraid of?”
Vanessa looked at me.
“Someone discovering how Ethan’s father really died.”
Ethan went completely still.
His father had supposedly suffered a heart attack twelve years ago.
At home.
Alone.
Diane had found him.
I turned toward my husband.
“Ethan?”
He was staring at Vanessa.
“My father had a heart condition.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“Rachel didn’t believe he died from it.”
“Why?”
“She found a payment.”
“What payment?”
“A payment from Warren to a private medical consultant three days after Richard Carter died.”
Morales stepped forward.
“Name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anything else?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Rachel said there was one person who could prove Richard was afraid before he died.”
“Who?”
Vanessa looked at Ethan.
“Your sister.”
Ethan’s face drained of color.
“My sister was sixteen.”
“Exactly.”
“She was away at boarding school.”
Vanessa slowly shook her head.
“No.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Rachel said Megan wasn’t at school the night your father died.”
Ethan stared at her.
May you like
Vanessa delivered the final blow quietly.
“She was in the house.”
