Chapter 2
My hands started shaking.
I read the page again.
Then a third time.
The beneficiary listed beneath my name was Ethan Cole.
My husband.
The policy amount was $2.5 million.
I looked at him.
“What is this?”
Ethan was still holding the sheet around his waist.
His face had gone pale.
“It’s not what you think.”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“What exactly do you think I’m thinking?”
Vanessa grabbed her blouse from the floor and pulled it around herself.
“Emily, listen to me.”
I turned on her.
“You don’t get to tell me to listen.”
“I know.”
Her voice cracked.
“And I deserve that. But that paper is why I came here tonight.”
Ethan stepped between us.
“She’s lying.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“You told me she signed it.”
“She did.”
“I did not!” I shouted.
Ethan pointed at the signature.
“That’s your signature.”
“It looks like my signature.”
“Because it is.”
Something cold moved through me.
He wasn’t embarrassed anymore.
He was calculating.
I knew that face.
I had seen him use it during arguments with contractors, salesmen, even his own brother.
It was the expression Ethan wore when he was trying to turn facts into confusion.
Vanessa reached into her purse again.
Ethan grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t.”
“Let go of her,” I said.
He ignored me.
Vanessa jerked free and pulled out her phone.
“I saved everything.”
Ethan’s eyes widened.
“What did you do?”
“I saved the messages.”
“What messages?” I asked.
Vanessa looked at me.
“The ones where he asked me to help him get your signature.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Ethan lunged for her phone.
Vanessa backed toward the wall.
“You said it was because Emily was too busy!”
“Give me the phone.”
“You said she knew!”
“Vanessa.”
“You said the policy company needed a wet signature and she had already agreed!”
“Shut up!”
I raised the cane again.
“Don’t touch her.”
Ethan looked at me as though I had betrayed him.
That almost made me laugh.
Vanessa unlocked her phone.
Her fingers trembled.
She opened a string of messages.
I stepped closer.
The contact name said Ethan.
One message read:
I need you to copy the signature from the refinance paperwork.
Another:
She never looks at the insurance statements.
Then:
Once it processes, everything changes.
My stomach twisted.
I looked at Ethan.
“What changes?”
He said nothing.
Vanessa swallowed.
“There’s more.”
“Don’t,” Ethan warned.
Vanessa stared directly at me.
“Three weeks ago, he asked me when your return flight landed.”
A chill ran down my back.
Ethan shook his head.
“This is insane.”
“He wanted the flight number,” Vanessa continued.
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to surprise you.”
I almost laughed again.
“He never asked me for my flight number.”
Vanessa looked terrified now.
“That’s why I started getting suspicious.”
Ethan stepped toward her.
“I swear to God—”
I lifted the cane.
“Stay there.”
He stopped.
Vanessa scrolled through her phone.
“He asked whether you were renting a car from the airport or driving your own car after you got home.”
My mouth went dry.
“My car is here.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“He told me.”
I looked toward the hallway.
My car was in the garage.
I had taken a taxi to the airport because Ethan claimed he might need my SUV while I was gone.
I suddenly remembered something.
Two days earlier, Ethan had texted me.
Your car started making a weird noise. I’m taking it to Steve tomorrow.
Steve was an old friend of his who owned a small repair shop.
I had barely thought about it.
My knees weakened.
“What happened to my car?”
Ethan shouted, “Nothing!”
Vanessa flinched.
I stared at him.
“What happened to my car?”
“Nothing happened to your car.”
“Then why are you yelling?”
“Because this is ridiculous!”
Vanessa whispered, “He told me you were supposed to drive to your mother’s tomorrow night.”
My heart stopped.
I was.
My mother was watching our eight-year-old daughter, Lily, while I traveled.
I planned to drive over after getting home.
The road to my mother’s house cut through nearly twenty miles of wooded hills.
I looked at Ethan.
He knew exactly what time I planned to leave.
I dropped the insurance paper onto the bed and pulled out my phone.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Calling the police.”
His expression changed instantly.
“Emily.”
I backed away.
“Don’t come near me.”
“You hit Vanessa with a cane.”
“And you slapped me.”
“You attacked us!”
“You forged my signature!”
“You don’t know that.”
Vanessa raised her phone.
“I do.”
Ethan stared at her with pure hatred.
“You stupid—”
I dialed 911.
He moved.
Fast.
He grabbed my phone before the call connected.
I screamed.
Vanessa jumped on his arm.
“Give it back!”
He shoved her.
She fell against the bed.
I swung the cane down against his forearm.
He cried out and dropped my phone.
I grabbed it.
Then I ran.
I made it into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Ethan hit it a second later.
“Emily!”
I locked it.
My fingers could barely press the numbers.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“My husband hit me.”
Another bang shook the door.
“He forged my signature on an insurance policy, and I think something happened to my car.”
“Are you in a safe location?”
“I’m locked in the bathroom.”
“Is he armed?”
“No.”
I looked at the cane in my hand.
“I have a cane.”
Ethan pounded again.
“Tell them you attacked me!”
The dispatcher heard him.
“Ma’am, officers are on the way.”
Then I heard Vanessa scream.
I froze.
“Vanessa?”
Something crashed outside.
I unlocked the door before the dispatcher could tell me not to.
Vanessa was on the floor.
Ethan stood over her holding her phone.
He had smashed it against the corner of the dresser.
“Ethan!”
He turned.
The look in his eyes terrified me.
Not anger.
Panic.
He had destroyed her phone because he was afraid of what was on it.
I held mine up.
“The police are coming.”
He stared at me.
Then he suddenly smiled.
It was the strangest thing I had ever seen.
“Good.”
Vanessa slowly stood.
Blood trickled from a small cut near her eyebrow.
“You’re finished,” she whispered.
Ethan laughed.
“No, Vanessa.”
He pointed toward the cane.
“Emily walked into this room and attacked both of us.”
He looked at my swollen cheek.
“I defended myself.”
Then he looked at Vanessa.
“And you’re my mistress who got scared when my wife caught us.”
Vanessa went silent.
Ethan’s smile widened.
“Who do you think they’re going to believe?”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
I felt sick.
Because for the first time that night, I realized Ethan might have planned for more than one thing to go wrong.
The police arrived within minutes.
Two officers entered the bedroom.
They separated us.
I told them everything.
Vanessa told them about the forged signature.
Ethan calmly told them I had attacked him after discovering the affair.
All three of us had injuries.
The cane lay on the carpet.
The destroyed phone lay near the dresser.
The insurance paper sat on the bed.
One officer photographed everything.
Another asked Ethan to put on clothes.
Then a female officer named Officer Greene pulled me aside.
“Your daughter isn’t here?”
“No. She’s with my mother.”
“Keep her there tonight.”
The seriousness in her voice frightened me.
“I will.”
“Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”
“My mother’s.”
She nodded.
Then another officer came upstairs carrying a clear plastic evidence bag.
Inside it was something small and black.
He looked at Officer Greene.
“We found this underneath the wife’s SUV.”
Ethan’s head snapped toward him.
“What?”
The officer held up the bag.
It contained a tiny electronic device.
Officer Greene frowned.
“What is it?”
“GPS tracker.”
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Ethan.
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
Vanessa whispered, “Oh my God.”
The officer continued.
“It’s magnetically attached. Recently placed.”
Ethan immediately shook his head.
“I’ve never seen that before.”
I stared at him.
“Who needed to track me, Ethan?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew exactly when I was coming home.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Yes, you did.”
He glared at her.
She didn’t stop.
“You had access to Emily’s airline account.”
I turned sharply.
“What?”
“He bragged about it.”
“Vanessa, shut your mouth.”
“You knew her password.”
My skin turned cold.
I used the same password for several accounts.
Ethan knew that.
Officer Greene looked at me.
“Change every password tonight.”
I nodded.
Then the officer who had found the tracker spoke again.
“There’s something else.”
He looked directly at me.
“Your brake warning light is on.”
I swallowed.
“It wasn’t on when I left.”
“We’re having the vehicle towed.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
The officer blocked him.
“Stay where you are.”
“I didn’t touch her car.”
Nobody had accused him.
Not yet.
But his answer came too quickly.
Officer Greene noticed.
So did I.
Thirty minutes later, Ethan was taken outside in handcuffs for the domestic assault while detectives were contacted regarding the possible forgery.
He twisted around before the officer placed him in the patrol car.
“Emily!”
I stood on the porch.
“Emily, don’t do this!”
I couldn’t believe the words.
I wasn’t doing anything.
For eleven years, I had trusted him.
I had built a life with him.
Shared money with him.
Raised a child with him.
Slept beside him.
And now there was a tracking device under my car and a forged $2.5 million insurance document on my bed.
Vanessa stood behind me wearing borrowed clothes from my closet.
I hated that she was wearing them.
I hated that she had been in my house.
I hated that she had slept with my husband.
But when the patrol car disappeared down the street, she whispered something that made every other feeling vanish.
“Emily.”
I turned.
Her face had gone white again.
“There’s one thing I haven’t told the police yet.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
She looked toward the driveway.
“Ethan wasn’t waiting for you to have an accident.”
My breath caught.
May you like
Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears.
“He was waiting for tomorrow.”
