Chapter 6
Ethan called Megan six times.
She didn’t answer.
On the seventh call, her phone was turned off.
That frightened him more than anything.
“My sister never turns off her phone.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Maybe she does when your mother is involved.”
“Don’t.”
“Why? Still defending the family?”
Ethan looked at her.
“No.”
The answer was quiet.
Final.
Vanessa’s expression softened slightly.
Detective Morales asked for Megan’s address.
“Franklin,” Ethan said. “About thirty minutes south.”
“Does she live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Does Diane have a key?”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“Diane has keys to everyone’s life.”
Morales sent officers.
We waited.
Those twenty-five minutes felt like hours.
Finally Morales’s phone rang.
She listened.
Then frowned.
“What?”
Ethan stood.
Morales ended the call.
“Megan isn’t home.”
“Where is she?”
“We don’t know.”
“Was there anything wrong at the house?”
“No signs of forced entry.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Mom could walk in.”
“We know.”
“Her car?”
“Gone.”
I looked at Ethan.
“When did you last talk to her?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked whether Mom was coming to dinner Sunday.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know about the camera?”
“No.”
Detective Morales asked, “Did Megan get along with Rachel?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Better than the rest of us did.”
Vanessa gave him a look.
He noticed.
“I know how that sounds.”
“It sounds accurate.”
Ethan rubbed his forehead.
“Rachel and Megan were close before everything fell apart.”
“Then maybe Rachel told her things.”
“Maybe.”
I remembered something.
At our baby shower three weeks earlier, Megan had been unusually quiet.
She had watched Diane almost the entire afternoon.
At one point, when Diane offered me a glass of champagne for a toast, Megan immediately stepped in.
“She’s pregnant, Mom.”
Diane had rolled her eyes.
“It’s one sip.”
Megan took the glass from her.
“I said no.”
At the time, I thought she was being protective.
Now the memory felt different.
“Ethan.”
He looked at me.
“At the shower, Megan wouldn’t let Diane hand me a drink.”
His face changed.
“When?”
I explained.
Vanessa whispered, “She knew.”
Morales asked, “Did she say anything else?”
I searched my memory.
After the guests left, Megan had hugged me.
A long hug.
Then she whispered, “You’re stronger than you think.”
I had assumed she meant childbirth.
Now I wasn’t sure.
“She told me something strange.”
“What?”
“She said if I ever needed her, I should call. Day or night.”
Ethan sat down heavily.
“She knew.”
Morales was already making another call.
A nurse entered.
“Everyone needs to leave except one person.”
I protested.
“We’re in the middle of—”
“Mrs. Carter, you are still my patient.”
Morales nodded.
“She’s right.”
Vanessa stood.
“I’ll go.”
Ethan stayed.
The nurse checked the baby.
Everything looked stable.
Then she checked me.
“You need sleep.”
I almost laughed.
“Sure.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She dimmed the lights before leaving.
Ethan sat beside the window.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked, “What was your father like?”
He looked surprised.
“Why?”
“I want to understand this family.”
He stared outside.
“He was tough.”
“Like Diane?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Dad could be controlling, but he wasn’t cruel. He built the company from nothing. Worked constantly. Expected everyone else to work constantly too.”
“Did he trust Warren?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were twenty-three when he died.”
“Yes.”
“You noticed nothing?”
Ethan looked ashamed.
“I was living in Chicago. I wanted nothing to do with the company.”
“Why?”
“Dad and I fought about it.”
“About what?”
“He wanted me to come home and work for him. I wanted to build my own life.”
“What did you do?”
“I left.”
“So Warren handled everything.”
“And Mom.”
“And Megan?”
“She was still a kid.”
I rested a hand on my stomach.
“Maybe that’s why she saw things you didn’t.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Because she was there.”
“Yes.”
He leaned forward.
“Emily, if Megan knew Mom was dangerous, why wouldn’t she say anything?”
I stared at him.
“Maybe she did.”
His face fell.
Again.
I didn’t need to say Rachel’s name.
He heard it anyway.
At three in the morning, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then a message appeared.
Emily, don’t tell Ethan I contacted you.
My heart raced.
Another message.
It’s Megan.
I sat up.
Ethan was asleep in the chair.
I typed:
Where are you?
The answer came immediately.
Safe for now.
Call police.
I am with police.
No. Not all of them.
I froze.
What does that mean?
A pause.
Then:
Warren has paid people for years. I don’t know who.
My stomach tightened.
Where are you?
She sent an address.
An old motel near Murfreesboro.
Then another message.
Come without Ethan.
I stared at the screen.
That made no sense.
I typed:
Why?
Her answer came seconds later.
Because I need to tell you what happened to Dad.
I called Detective Morales.
She answered on the second ring.
I told her everything.
“Do not go anywhere.”
“She’s afraid of police.”
“She’s afraid of someone.”
“What if she runs?”
“Let her.”
“Morales—”
“Your safety comes first.”
I hated it.
But I knew she was right.
Morales arranged for an officer from outside her immediate team to approach the motel quietly.
Before they arrived, Megan texted again.
They found me.
Then nothing.
I called.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Morales’s voice came through my other phone.
“Emily, stay calm.”
“What does ‘they found me’ mean?”
“We’re trying to find out.”
Twenty minutes later, officers reached the motel.
The room was empty.
The door was open.
Megan’s phone lay on the floor.
Her car was still outside.
But Megan was gone.
Ethan woke to the sound of me crying.
“What happened?”
I showed him the messages.
He read them.
His face turned white.
“You should have woken me.”
“She told me not to.”
“She’s my sister.”
“I called Morales.”
“Why would Megan be afraid of me?”
“I don’t know.”
He paced.
“What did she mean about Dad?”
“I don’t know.”
He grabbed his jacket.
I sat forward.
“Where are you going?”
“To find her.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“You already got locked in a storage unit.”
“That was Warren.”
“Exactly.”
“She’s my sister.”
“And I’m your wife.”
He stopped.
The words hung between us.
“I’m asking you to stay alive.”
He looked at me.
Then slowly put the jacket down.
At sunrise, Morales returned.
Her face was grim.
“No sign of Megan.”
“Was she taken?”
“We can’t confirm that.”
“What about cameras?”
“The motel camera system was disabled about ten minutes before she sent the last message.”
Ethan swore under his breath.
“Warren.”
“Probably.”
“Then he has her.”
Morales didn’t argue.
She placed a photograph on the table.
“We searched Warren’s office overnight.”
The photograph showed a filing cabinet.
Inside were folders labeled with family names.
Richard.
Rachel.
Ethan.
Megan.
And me.
My folder was thick.
I felt sick.
“What’s in mine?”
“Photographs. Your prenatal appointment schedule. Copies of medical bills. Information about your parents.”
“How long?”
“Almost a year.”
Ethan slammed his hand against the wall.
“He was watching her.”
“Yes.”
Morales showed us another photograph.
A handwritten page.
At the top was Monday’s date.
Underneath were several notes.
Transfer delayed if no living descendant.
Challenge capacity.
Emergency injunction.
Control remains with D.C.
D.C.
Diane Carter.
My mouth went dry.
“This was planned.”
“Yes.”
“Diane wasn’t acting alone.”
“No.”
“What about Megan?”
Morales turned to another photograph.
One sentence was written at the bottom of Warren’s page.
Megan remains unresolved.
Ethan stared.
“What does that mean?”
Morales shook her head.
“We don’t know.”
Then her phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
“Where?”
She listened.
“We’re coming.”
She hung up.
“Someone found Megan’s car.”
Ethan stood.
“Where?”
“Near Percy Priest Lake.”
My heart stopped.
“Was she inside?”
“No.”
Relief lasted less than one second.
“Then where is she?”
Morales looked at us.
“There was blood on the driver’s seat.”
Ethan went white.
“Whose?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Then Morales added the part that terrified me most.
“There was also an envelope on the windshield.”
“For who?”
May you like
She looked directly at me.
“For Emily.”
