Chapter 3
I didn’t move.
“What happens tomorrow?”
Vanessa wrapped her arms around herself.
Officer Greene was still standing near the porch.
I called her back immediately.
“Officer.”
She saw my face.
“What is it?”
I pointed at Vanessa.
“She says there’s more.”
Vanessa looked like she might throw up.
Officer Greene took out her notebook.
“Tell me.”
Vanessa hesitated.
Then the words poured out.
“Ethan told me Emily always drives to her mother’s house after business trips because their daughter stays there.”
“That’s true,” I said.
“He said she would leave around seven.”
I felt cold.
“Also true.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“Last Thursday, he asked whether I knew anyone who could make a car problem look accidental.”
Officer Greene’s expression sharpened.
“Exactly what did he say?”
Vanessa unlocked nothing because her phone was shattered upstairs.
“I can’t show you now.”
“Were the messages backed up?”
“I think so.”
“To the cloud?”
“Yes.”
Officer Greene nodded.
“We can work with that.”
Vanessa kept talking.
“I told him he was sick. He laughed and said it was a joke.”
“You stayed with him after that?” I asked.
The question came out harsher than I intended.
She looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was stupid.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I loved him.”
I stared at her.
She lowered her eyes.
“He told me your marriage had been over for years. He said you barely spoke. He said you were staying together because of Lily.”
“That was a lie.”
“I know that now.”
My throat tightened.
Ethan and I had problems.
Normal problems.
Bills.
Schedules.
Arguments about chores.
Stress from work.
But we still had Friday movie nights.
We still kissed before leaving the house.
We had celebrated our eleventh anniversary four months earlier.
He had stood across from me at a restaurant and said he wanted twenty more years.
Had he already been sleeping with Vanessa then?
I didn’t ask.
Not yet.
Officer Greene said, “Did he ever tell you what he meant by making the car problem look accidental?”
“No. But three days later, he told me he had handled it himself.”
I grabbed the porch railing.
“What did that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he mention Steve?”
Vanessa blinked.
“Steve the mechanic?”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly.
“Once.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did he say?”
“That Steve owed him a favor.”
Officer Greene immediately radioed someone.
I pulled out my phone and called my mother.
She answered on the second ring.
“Emily? Honey, why are you calling so late?”
“Mom, is Lily asleep?”
A pause.
“Yes. Why?”
“Lock the doors.”
“What?”
“Lock every door and window. Don’t let anyone inside except the police or me.”
“Emily, you’re scaring me.”
“I know.”
My voice broke.
“I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
I looked at Vanessa.
Then at the flashing lights in front of my house.
“Ethan and I had a problem.”
“A problem?”
“I found him with another woman.”
Silence.
My mother inhaled sharply.
“Oh, Emily.”
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“I can’t explain everything right now. Just keep Lily with you.”
“Of course.”
“And Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Do not answer Ethan if he calls.”
Her voice changed.
“What did he do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
That was the worst part.
I didn’t know.
I ended the call and drove to my mother’s house in the back of a police cruiser because my SUV had been towed and I refused to ride with Vanessa.
I barely slept.
At three in the morning, Lily wandered into the guest room carrying her stuffed fox.
“Mommy?”
I opened my arms.
She climbed into bed beside me.
“You came home early.”
“I did.”
“Where’s Daddy?”
My chest hurt.
“He had to go somewhere tonight.”
“Is he coming tomorrow?”
I stared into the darkness.
“I don’t know, baby.”
She curled against me.
Within minutes, she was asleep again.
I stayed awake until sunrise.
At seven fifteen, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Emily Cole?”
“Yes.”
“This is Detective Rachel Morgan. I’ve been assigned to follow up on the insurance document and your vehicle.”
I sat up.
“Did they find something?”
“We need to speak in person.”
My stomach tightened.
“Is it bad?”
“I’d rather explain when we meet.”
That meant yes.
My mother watched Lily while I went to the station.
Detective Morgan was in her early forties with dark hair pulled into a simple ponytail.
She didn’t waste time.
“The preliminary inspection of your vehicle found interference with the braking system.”
I stared at her.
“What does interference mean?”
“It means the mechanic who inspected it believes someone deliberately caused a problem.”
I stopped breathing for a second.
“Could I have crashed?”
“Yes.”
The room disappeared around me.
I saw the road to my mother’s house.
The steep hill.
The narrow turn near Miller Creek.
Lily often rode home with me.
If I had followed my normal routine, I would have picked her up and put her in the back seat.
My daughter could have been in that car.
Detective Morgan slid a box of tissues toward me.
I didn’t realize I was crying until then.
“Was Ethan trying to kill me?”
“We are investigating that possibility.”
“Possibility?”
“We need evidence connecting him to the vehicle.”
“Vanessa told you what he said.”
“That helps. So does the insurance paperwork.”
“Then arrest him.”
“He was arrested last night for domestic assault. The other allegations require more investigation.”
“Is he still in jail?”
“For now.”
“For now?”
“He’ll have a bond hearing.”
Fear hit me.
“You’re saying he could come out?”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“No.”
“Mrs. Cole—”
“No. He knows where my mother lives.”
“We can help you request an emergency protective order.”
“A piece of paper?”
Her eyes softened.
“It’s part of the process.”
I hated the process already.
I sat again.
Detective Morgan opened another folder.
“We contacted the insurance company.”
My hands tightened.
“The beneficiary change request was submitted fourteen days ago.”
“I was in Chicago seven days.”
“You were still home when it was submitted.”
“I didn’t sign it.”
“They have a scanned copy of your driver’s license attached.”
I frowned.
“My license is in my wallet.”
“Has Ethan had access to it?”
“He’s my husband. Of course.”
“There’s also a witness signature.”
“Whose?”
She turned the document.
The name made my heart pound.
Diane Cole.
Ethan’s mother.
I stared at it.
“No.”
“You know her?”
“She’s my mother-in-law.”
Detective Morgan waited.
I shook my head.
“She wouldn’t.”
But even as I said it, I remembered Christmas.
Diane had pulled Ethan into the kitchen.
They whispered for nearly twenty minutes.
When I asked what was wrong, Ethan said she needed help paying property taxes.
Then there was Easter.
Diane had asked me whether my job included life insurance.
I had laughed because the question felt strange.
She said she was updating her own estate plan.
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
“She knew.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“She signed it.”
“A signature appears under her name. We have to confirm whether it’s genuine.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So maybe Ethan forged hers too.”
“That’s possible.”
My phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number appeared.
You are destroying this family.
I showed Detective Morgan.
Another arrived.
Lily needs her father.
Then another.
Do not believe that whore.
My stomach twisted.
“Diane.”
“Don’t respond,” Detective Morgan said.
Another message came.
Ethan made mistakes. He did not try to kill you.
I stared at the words.
Detective Morgan leaned forward.
“That message is important.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody outside the investigation has told his mother we are examining a possible attempted homicide.”
My skin prickled.
I looked at her.
“So how does she know?”
Detective Morgan took a photo of the screen.
Then my phone rang.
Diane.
I wanted to reject it.
The detective raised a hand.
“Answer.”
I pressed speaker.
“Hello?”
Diane didn’t say hello.
“What have you done?”
My pulse jumped.
“What have I done?”
“My son is sitting in jail because you lost your temper.”
“He slapped me.”
“After you attacked him with a weapon.”
“He forged my signature.”
Silence.
Then she said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know your name is on the paperwork.”
Another silence.
Longer.
“Emily.”
Her tone changed.
It became soft.
Almost motherly.
“We need to handle this privately.”
I looked at Detective Morgan.
She nodded for me to continue.
“Why?”
“Because police don’t understand families.”
“Do you?”
“I understand my son.”
“Did you witness my signature?”
Diane exhaled.
“I signed where Ethan asked me to sign.”
My heart pounded.
“Did you watch me sign the document?”
“No.”
There it was.
Detective Morgan wrote something quickly.
“Did Ethan tell you I signed it?”
“Yes.”
“You believed him?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you didn’t see me.”
“Emily, please.”
“Did you know the policy was worth $2.5 million?”
Silence again.
“Diane?”
“I knew it was substantial.”
“Did you know he put a tracker under my car?”
“What?”
Her reaction sounded real.
Maybe.
“Did you know someone tampered with my brakes?”
She stopped breathing.
Then she whispered, “He said Steve fixed the problem.”
Detective Morgan’s eyes locked onto mine.
I whispered back, “What problem?”
Diane realized too late what she had said.
“Nothing.”
“What problem, Diane?”
“I have to go.”
“No.”
The line went dead.
Detective Morgan immediately stood.
“I need to make some calls.”
I stood too.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to speak to your mother-in-law and Steve.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was an email.
The sender was our bank.
SUBJECT: TRANSFER CONFIRMATION.
I opened it.
A transfer of $186,000 had been initiated from our joint savings account three days earlier.
Destination account ending in 7721.
I had never seen the account.
I showed Detective Morgan.
“Ethan moved our money.”
She looked at the date.
“While you were traveling.”
My chest tightened.
That money included almost everything we had saved.
College money.
Emergency savings.
Money from the sale of my father’s old property.
I called the bank immediately.
The representative verified my identity.
Then she said something that nearly knocked the phone from my hand.
“Mrs. Cole, the transfer wasn’t made to an account owned by your husband.”
“Whose account is it?”
“I can’t disclose full information over the phone.”
“Is the account mine?”
“No.”
“Then whose?”
“I’m sorry.”
Detective Morgan leaned toward the phone.
“This is Detective Rachel Morgan. We’ll be sending a preservation request.”
The representative paused.
Then said, “I can confirm the receiving account is associated with a woman.”
Vanessa.
That was my first thought.
I hated myself for it, but it was immediate.
I called her.
She answered groggily.
“Emily?”
“Did Ethan send you $186,000?”
“What?”
“Answer me.”
“No!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
“Then whose account did he send it to?”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“He had another phone.”
I went still.
“What other phone?”
“A black one. Small. He kept it in his desk.”
“Why?”
“He said it was for clients.”
“Where?”
“At the office.”
Detective Morgan heard everything.
“Vanessa,” she said, moving closer to my phone, “do not go to the office.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know who else is involved.”
There was a pause.
Then Vanessa whispered, “Detective?”
“Yes?”
“You need to hurry.”
“Why?”
“I just remembered who gave Ethan the second phone.”
Detective Morgan looked at me.
“Who?”
May you like
Vanessa answered.
“His mother.”
