Chapter 4
Detective Morgan sent officers to Ethan’s office before I even left the station.
By noon, everything I thought I knew about my marriage was collapsing faster than I could process it.
The second phone was gone.
So was Ethan’s laptop.
His desk drawers had been emptied.
Someone had gotten there first.
Security footage showed a woman entering the building at 6:12 that morning.
Diane.
My mother-in-law.
She used Ethan’s employee access card.
She left eighteen minutes later carrying a large tote bag.
When police went to her house, she wasn’t there.
Neither was her car.
Detective Morgan called me just after one.
“Do you know anywhere Diane might go?”
“She has a sister in Ohio.”
“We’re checking.”
“She also owns a cabin.”
“Where?”
“About two hours north. Near Lake Harper.”
There was a pause.
“Does Ethan have access?”
“Yes.”
“So does his brother.”
“Mason?”
“Yes.”
“Give me the address.”
I did.
Then I called Mason myself.
He answered immediately.
“Emily?”
“Where’s your mother?”
“What happened?”
“Do you know where she is?”
“No.”
“Mason, this isn’t family drama anymore.”
His voice became cautious.
“What does that mean?”
“Someone tampered with my car.”
Silence.
“Emily…”
“Ethan forged an insurance document.”
“I heard about the fight.”
“This is not about the fight.”
“Mom called me.”
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
My pulse jumped.
“What did she say?”
“That Ethan had been arrested and you were accusing him of trying to kill you.”
“Did she tell you where she was?”
“No.”
“Did you hear anything in the background?”
He hesitated.
“Wind.”
“That’s it?”
“And maybe water.”
Lake Harper.
I closed my eyes.
“Did she ask you for anything?”
“She wanted me to meet her.”
“Where?”
“Emily—”
“Where?”
“The cabin.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped across the floor.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Do not go.”
“Why?”
“Because police are looking for her.”
“What?”
“She removed evidence from Ethan’s office.”
Mason cursed softly.
“Emily, my mother is a lot of things, but she isn’t a criminal.”
I almost screamed.
“She admitted she signed a document without watching me sign it.”
“She probably thought Ethan had permission.”
“That’s what she says.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t know who your family is anymore.”
That hurt him.
I heard it in his silence.
But I couldn’t apologize.
Not yet.
Mason finally whispered, “I’ll call you if she contacts me again.”
“Call the police too.”
He didn’t promise.
That worried me.
At three, I returned to my mother’s house.
Lily ran into my arms.
“Mommy!”
I hugged her so tightly she laughed.
“You’re squishing me.”
“Sorry.”
She leaned back.
“Grandma said Daddy is busy.”
I looked at my mother.
She looked guilty.
I knelt.
“Daddy and I are having a serious disagreement.”
Lily frowned.
“Like when you fought about the dishwasher?”
Despite everything, I nearly smiled.
“Bigger than the dishwasher.”
“Is he mad?”
“Yes.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you getting divorced?”
The question hit me like a punch.
Eight years old.
Children understood more than adults wanted to believe.
“I don’t know yet.”
I did know.
But I wasn’t ready to say it.
She looked down.
“Is it because of the lady?”
My blood ran cold.
“What lady?”
Lily immediately looked scared.
“What lady, baby?”
“The lady who came here.”
“When?”
“Last weekend.”
Vanessa?
I kept my voice calm.
“What did she look like?”
“Brown hair.”
Vanessa had dark brown hair.
“What did she do?”
“She and Daddy were upstairs.”
I swallowed.
“Did she talk to you?”
“No.”
“Did Daddy know you saw her?”
Lily nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He said she was helping him with work.”
I looked at my mother.
She put a hand over her mouth.
I turned back to Lily.
“Was there anyone else here?”
Lily thought.
“Grandma Diane.”
Everything inside me tightened.
“When was Grandma Diane here?”
“The day Daddy picked me up early from Grandma’s.”
My mother frowned.
“He picked Lily up last Saturday for about four hours.”
I hadn’t known.
“Why?”
“He said he wanted lunch with her.”
Lily interrupted.
“But we didn’t get lunch.”
“What did you do?”
“Daddy brought me home. Grandma Diane was here.”
“What were they doing?”
“Papers.”
My heart pounded.
“What papers?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did they ask you to sign anything?”
“No.”
“Did they ask you to write my name?”
Lily frowned harder.
Then she nodded.
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
“Grandma gave me paper and said we were practicing cursive.”
My mother gasped.
I could barely speak.
“What did she ask you to write?”
“Your name.”
“Emily?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“A lot.”
I stood.
I had to walk away before Lily saw my face.
My mother followed me into the kitchen.
“They used your daughter to practice your signature?”
“I don’t know.”
My hands were shaking again.
I called Detective Morgan.
She arrived less than an hour later with a child interviewer.
They spoke to Lily gently.
No pressure.
No frightening words.
Lily repeated the story.
Grandma Diane had given her copies of my name.
She asked Lily to trace them.
Ethan watched.
At one point, Diane joked, “You’re getting almost as good as Daddy.”
That sentence changed everything.
Police obtained a search warrant for Diane’s house.
What they found there was worse.
Practice sheets.
Dozens of them.
My signature written again and again.
Copies of my driver’s license.
Bank statements.
Insurance statements.
A printed copy of my work travel calendar.
And photographs of my SUV.
One showed the underside near the rear bumper.
Another showed the dashboard.
Detective Morgan called me after dark.
“We also found financial documents.”
“What kind?”
“Loans.”
“In my name?”
“Yes.”
I stopped breathing.
“How much?”
“Approximately seventy thousand dollars.”
“I never borrowed seventy thousand dollars.”
“We know.”
“No, you don’t understand. I check my credit.”
“The loans appear recent.”
“How recent?”
“The past six weeks.”
I pressed my hand against the counter.
“Where did the money go?”
“We’re tracing it.”
“Was Diane helping him?”
“It appears she knew more than she initially admitted.”
My mother stood across the kitchen holding Lily’s abandoned juice cup.
Her face was white.
“Have you found her?”
“No.”
“What about the cabin?”
“Officers checked.”
“And?”
“Empty.”
I exhaled.
Then Detective Morgan said, “But someone had been there recently.”
“How recently?”
“The fireplace was still warm.”
My skin prickled.
“They’re running?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Ethan is in jail.”
“For the moment.”
Those words again.
I hated them.
“His bond hearing is tomorrow morning.”
I gripped the phone tighter.
“Can I attend?”
“Yes.”
“I will.”
The courthouse was packed the next morning.
Ethan walked into the courtroom wearing a gray jail uniform.
For one terrible second, my heart remembered him as my husband.
The man who held Lily the night she was born.
The man who cried when my father died.
Then he looked at me.
There was no regret in his eyes.
Only anger.
His attorney argued that the bedroom incident was a domestic dispute triggered by infidelity.
He described me as “emotionally unstable.”
He emphasized that I had used a cane.
My face burned.
Then the prosecutor stood.
She presented the forged insurance document.
The GPS tracker.
The preliminary report on my vehicle.
The financial fraud.
Diane’s disappearance.
The judge’s expression changed.
Ethan’s attorney whispered urgently to him.
The prosecutor requested a high bond.
The judge agreed.
One million dollars.
I nearly cried with relief.
Then Ethan stood to be taken away.
He turned toward me.
“Emily.”
The deputy pulled him forward.
He spoke louder.
“Ask Vanessa where your money went.”
I froze.
His attorney grabbed his arm.
“Stop talking.”
But Ethan smiled.
“Ask her!”
Then he was gone.
I called Vanessa before I reached the parking lot.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“What?”
“Ethan says you know where the money went.”
Silence.
“Vanessa?”
“I told you I don’t.”
“Then why would he say that?”
“To turn you against me.”
“Is it working?”
She didn’t answer.
I closed my eyes.
“Tell me everything.”
“I have.”
“No, you haven’t.”
Another silence.
Then she whispered, “There was a company.”
“What company?”
“Blue Harbor Consulting.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Why do you know the name?”
“Because Ethan paid my rent through it.”
I stopped walking.
“How long?”
“Five months.”
My stomach twisted.
“So you were taking money from him.”
“I thought it was his.”
“How much?”
“Emily—”
“How much?”
“About twelve thousand total.”
I almost hung up.
Then she said, “But that’s not the bad part.”
I laughed bitterly.
“There’s a worse part?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I saw the company name on paperwork in Diane’s house.”
I went silent.
“When were you in Diane’s house?”
Vanessa started crying.
“Two months ago.”
“Why?”
“Ethan took me there.”
“For what?”
“He wanted me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A document saying I had witnessed you authorize several financial transfers.”
Rage burned through me.
“Did you sign it?”
“No.”
“Vanessa.”
“I swear.”
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“Because I was ashamed that I stayed with him afterward.”
I leaned against my car.
“Where is that document?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
She breathed rapidly.
“Diane put it in a red folder.”
“Where?”
“An upstairs office.”
Police had searched Diane’s house.
Maybe they had it already.
I called Detective Morgan.
She listened.
Then said something that made my stomach drop.
“We didn’t find a red folder.”
“Maybe Diane took it.”
“Maybe.”
“Or Ethan moved it.”
“Maybe.”
I heard another voice near her.
Then Detective Morgan said, “Emily, I need to call you back.”
“What happened?”
“Stay with your mother.”
“Why?”
“Detective?”
“Do not leave the house.”
The line ended.
Twenty minutes passed.
Then forty.
I paced the living room while my mother watched me.
Finally my phone rang.
Detective Morgan.
I answered instantly.
“What happened?”
“We found Diane’s car.”
“Where?”
“Near the train station.”
“Was she there?”
“No.”
“Then where is she?”
“We don’t know.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why did you tell me not to leave?”
“Because there was something inside the car.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
I waited.
“Of what?”
“You and Lily.”
I couldn’t speak.
Detective Morgan continued.
“It appears to have been taken yesterday outside your mother’s house.”
I stared through the window.
Every shadow suddenly looked dangerous.
Someone had been watching us.
May you like
And Diane wasn’t running away.
She was still close.
