Chapter 5
Detective Holloway told us to leave Rachel’s house immediately.
Not in our cars.
Not alone.
Two officers arrived and escorted us to a hotel under a reservation that didn’t use my name.
Mark stayed with Rachel.
I went directly to the police station because Sophie had finally been released back to me under a new emergency order.
When I saw her, I ran.
She ran faster.
I dropped to my knees as she crashed into me.
“Mommy!”
“I’ve got you.”
She buried her face against my neck.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I listened.”
I pulled back.
“What do you mean?”
“Daddy told me to say Jessica didn’t hit me.”
My heart broke.
“Did you?”
She shook her head.
“He said if I didn’t, they’d take you away.”
I held her tighter.
“You did nothing wrong.”
She whispered, “Daddy scares me now.”
Those words hurt worse than anything Ryan had done to me.
A detective brought Sophie into a child-friendly interview room.
A trained specialist spoke with her while I watched through one-way glass.
I hated being separated from her again.
But I knew the interview mattered.
Sophie told the truth.
Jessica slapped her.
Ryan packed my clothes.
Ryan told her not to tell me things.
Ryan had started giving Sophie “sleep vitamins” two weeks earlier.
“Did they make you sleepy?” the interviewer asked.
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“My tummy hurt.”
“Did Daddy give them to you every night?”
“Only when Mommy was home.”
I stared through the glass.
Why only when I was home?
Then Sophie said something else.
“Sometimes Mommy got sleepy too.”
My blood chilled.
“How do you know?”
“She would fall asleep on the couch after Daddy made tea.”
I closed my eyes.
Ryan made me tea nearly every night.
He had been doing it for months.
I thought it was kindness.
I thought he was helping.
I remembered waking up confused twice.
One morning I found my car keys in the refrigerator.
Ryan laughed.
Told me I must have put them there.
Another time I woke with a bruise on my thigh and no memory of getting it.
Ryan joked that I was becoming clumsy.
Then there were the missing conversations.
He would insist I had agreed to expenses I couldn’t remember discussing.
I started doubting myself.
That had been the point.
Not memory loss.
Drugging.
Gaslighting.
Evidence.
A plan.
When Sophie’s interview ended, a nurse examined her and collected a blood sample.
I agreed to be tested too.
Detective Holloway met me afterward.
“We searched the house with Ryan’s consent after he spoke with counsel.”
“Why would he consent?”
“He thinks the medication belongs to you.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“He claims you’ve been hiding a substance-abuse problem.”
“There it is.”
“We’re not taking his word for anything.”
“Did you test the bottles?”
“They’re being analyzed.”
“What about the psychiatric forms?”
“We contacted the facility. They received a preliminary intake request from Dr. Mercer.”
“He’s never met me.”
“We know.”
“What did Mercer say?”
“He hasn’t returned our calls.”
I stared at him.
“He’s involved.”
“Possibly.”
“Not possibly.”
Holloway gave me the look detectives probably gave everyone who wanted answers faster than investigations worked.
“I understand why you feel that way.”
“Do you?”
I leaned forward.
“My husband has been putting something in my drinks. He forged my name on financial paperwork. He tried to have me committed. His girlfriend hit my child. Her brother is sending threats.”
Holloway remained calm.
“That’s why we’re taking this seriously.”
“Then arrest Ryan.”
“We need probable cause for specific offenses.”
“You have forged documents.”
“We’re verifying them.”
“You have pills with my name.”
“We’re verifying those too.”
I hated the word verifying.
But I also understood.
Ryan had spent months building a story.
We had spent barely two days tearing it apart.
My phone vibrated.
Dana.
“I have news.”
“Good or bad?”
“Both.”
I stepped into the hall.
“Start with good.”
“The emergency custody order has been reversed. Sophie remains with you until a full hearing.”
I closed my eyes.
“Thank God.”
“The judge also prohibited Ryan from unsupervised contact pending investigation.”
“Good.”
“Now the bad.”
Of course.
“Ryan withdrew nearly $180,000 from the home equity line the day it funded.”
“Where did it go?”
“Most was wired to a company called Cumberland Renewal Group.”
“What is that?”
“I’m researching it.”
“And the rest?”
“Thirty thousand went to Jessica.”
I pressed my palm to the wall.
“How much money has he taken from us total?”
“At least two hundred seventy thousand that I can currently document.”
I felt physically ill.
Years of saving.
My mother’s life-insurance money.
College savings.
Everything.
“Can we freeze anything?”
“I’m requesting it.”
“Find the company.”
“I already have someone working on it.”
I went back to Sophie.
She was eating crackers with Rachel.
Rachel had brought the stuffed rabbit.
Sophie looked exhausted.
“Can we go home?”
The question caught me off guard.
I knelt beside her.
“Not our house yet.”
“Why?”
“Because we need somewhere safer.”
She thought about that.
“Is Daddy going to jail?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is Jessica?”
“I don’t know.”
Sophie frowned.
“Adults say they don’t know a lot.”
Rachel smiled sadly.
“Yes, we do.”
That night, police placed us in a secured hotel.
An officer remained nearby.
Sophie finally fell asleep.
I sat at the desk with my laptop.
The cloud security account had one surviving video.
But maybe other things had been synced elsewhere.
I searched old backups.
Nothing.
Emails.
Nothing.
Then I remembered Ryan’s tablet.
He used the same Apple account for years.
Maybe messages had synced.
I opened an old family laptop that Rachel had picked up from our house with police permission.
Ryan’s account was still logged into one application.
Notes.
Most were harmless.
Shopping lists.
Work reminders.
Passwords that no longer worked.
Then I found a locked note.
Title:
E.
I tried our anniversary.
Wrong.
Sophie’s birthday.
Wrong.
Jessica’s first name.
Wrong.
Then I tried Friday’s date.
It opened.
A list appeared.
Refi complete.
Transfer funds.
Mercer assessment.
Sophie witness issue.
Incident.
Police.
Facility.
Emergency custody.
House transfer.
Insurance.
I stared at number ten.
Insurance.
Below the list was a date.
Friday.
And an amount.
$750,000.
My hands began to shake.
I searched our email for insurance.
Nothing.
Then Dana called again.
“I found Cumberland Renewal Group.”
“What is it?”
“A shell company.”
“Who owns it?”
“Officially? A registered agent.”
“And unofficially?”
“I found a former business address connected to Daniel Reeves.”
My stomach dropped.
Jessica’s brother.
“So Ryan wired him $180,000.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
I looked at the locked note.
Maybe I did.
“Dana, what happens if someone dies during a divorce before it’s finalized?”
Silence.
“Why are you asking?”
“Just answer.”
“In Tennessee, it depends on estate documents, property title, beneficiary designations, and other factors.”
“What about life insurance?”
“The named beneficiary typically receives the proceeds unless legally challenged.”
I whispered, “Insurance.”
“What?”
“Ryan has a note.”
I read the list.
Dana was silent for several seconds.
Then she said, “Send me a screenshot.”
I did.
“You need to give this to the detective.”
“I will.”
“Emily.”
“Yes?”
“Do not assume Friday referred only to committing you.”
My blood ran cold.
“I know.”
I called Holloway.
He came to the hotel personally.
I showed him the note.
He stared at it for a long time.
“Do you have life insurance?”
“I thought I had a $250,000 policy through Ryan’s employer.”
“Thought?”
“That’s what he told me.”
“We need to verify.”
Holloway made two calls.
The second lasted ten minutes.
He returned looking grim.
“You have two policies.”
My heart pounded.
“How much?”
“One for $250,000.”
“And the other?”
“A private policy purchased eleven months ago.”
“I didn’t purchase anything.”
“Your signature appears on the application.”
“How much?”
He looked directly at me.
“Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars.”
My skin went cold.
“Beneficiary?”
“Ryan.”
I stared at the wall.
The locked note showed the same number.
$750,000.
Friday.
Holloway stood.
“I’m requesting protective measures immediately.”
“What about Ryan?”
“We’re locating him.”
“What do you mean locating him?”
“He was released after questioning earlier.”
“You let him leave?”
“We didn’t have enough to hold him.”
“Where is he now?”
“We don’t know.”
I looked at Sophie sleeping across the room.
“What about Jessica?”
“She posted bond.”
My voice rose.
“You released both of them?”
“They were not charged with a violent felony.”
I grabbed my phone.
A new message appeared.
Unknown number.
No words.
Just a video.
I pressed play.
Ryan was standing in our kitchen.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Emily, I know you found the insurance.”
I stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“You were always too curious.”
He smiled.
“But you still haven’t figured out the important part.”
The camera turned.
Jessica stood beside him.
And behind Jessica was Dr. Alan Mercer.
Ryan said, “You think Daniel is the dangerous one.”
Mercer looked into the camera.
Then smiled.
Ryan finished.
“He isn’t.”
The video ended.
May you like
A second message arrived.
THE DOCTOR MAKES HOUSE CALLS.
