Chapter 5
“Keep the doors closed.”
The paramedic looked at me.
“What?”
“That car behind us.”
He followed my gaze.
Daniel’s sedan had stopped near the emergency entrance.
The driver’s door opened.
Daniel stepped out.
My pulse spiked.
“He was at the house with the police.”
The paramedic frowned.
“Do you want security?”
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
He radioed ahead.
By the time the ambulance doors opened, two hospital security officers were waiting.
I climbed down with Rosie in my arms.
Daniel approached from across the lane.
“Ryan.”
One guard stepped between us.
“Sir, stop there.”
Daniel raised his hands.
“I’m family.”
I laughed bitterly.
“No, you’re not.”
His jaw tightened.
“I came to make sure Rosie is okay.”
“You helped hurt her.”
“That is not what happened.”
“Stay away from us.”
“Ryan, the police are misunderstanding the situation.”
“Funny. Everyone who gets caught says that.”
His eyes dropped toward Rosie.
She immediately buried her face in my neck.
That reaction made the guard look at him differently.
“Sir,” the guard said, “you need to leave the entrance.”
Daniel ignored him.
“Ryan, listen. Bethany is panicking. Your father is furious. Your mother is falling apart. If we don’t control this now—”
“We?”
He stopped.
I stared at him.
“There is no we.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.”
“You’re emotional.”
I nearly smiled.
There it was again.
The family’s favorite word.
Emotional.
As if caring about my injured daughter was evidence of instability.
As if anger was more suspicious than cruelty.
I stepped closer to the security guard.
“I don’t want him anywhere near my daughter.”
The guard nodded.
“Understood.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“You’re making a serious mistake.”
I looked at him.
“Was that a threat?”
“No.”
“It sounded like one.”
“I’m telling you that once allegations start, you cannot control where they go.”
“Good.”
That surprised him.
I continued.
“I don’t want to control them. I want the truth.”
Daniel stared at me for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
It was the coldest smile I had ever seen.
“The truth is complicated.”
I felt something inside me settle.
Fear became clarity.
“I think you’re counting on that.”
The guards walked him away.
He didn’t resist.
Before leaving, he called back.
“Ask Jenna why Emily was really driving that night.”
I froze.
He knew I had spoken to Jenna.
How?
I hadn’t told anyone.
My call had happened inside the ambulance.
Daniel had arrived only minutes later.
Unless someone was monitoring my phone.
Or Jenna’s.
I immediately called her back.
She answered.
“Ryan?”
“Did Daniel call you?”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
“No. Why?”
“He knows I spoke with you.”
Silence.
“Are you sure?”
“He told me to ask you why Emily was driving the night she died.”
Jenna inhaled sharply.
“Ryan…”
“What?”
“There is something I never told you.”
My stomach tightened.
“Tell me now.”
“She was coming to see me.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why?”
“She called around eleven-thirty. She was crying.”
I remembered that night.
Emily had told me she was going out for air after an argument.
Our argument.
About my family.
God.
“What did she say to you?”
“She said she found something.”
“What?”
“She wouldn’t say on the phone.”
“Did she sound afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Of who?”
“Your father.”
The emergency department doors opened.
A nurse called Rosie’s name.
“I have to go.”
“Ryan.”
“What?”
“Be careful with your phone.”
I stopped.
“Why?”
“Emily thought someone had access to hers.”
That was enough.
I powered mine off.
Inside the hospital, Rosie was taken to a pediatric examination room.
The doctor was kind.
Patient.
She let Rosie keep Bunny on the bed.
X-rays showed no fractures.
The bruising on her arms was consistent with forceful gripping.
The cheek injury was superficial.
Medically, Rosie would recover.
Emotionally was another matter.
A child advocacy specialist arrived.
Her name was Marisol.
She explained that nobody wanted Rosie repeatedly questioned.
That trained interviewers could speak with her later in a safe setting.
I was relieved.
I didn’t want Rosie telling the story ten times to ten adults.
I wanted her to sleep.
To eat pancakes.
To watch cartoons.
To be four.
Marisol asked whether Rosie had another parent.
“My wife died three years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded.
“She was almost one.”
Rosie looked over.
“Mommy’s in heaven.”
Marisol smiled gently.
“That’s what Daddy says.”
Rosie hugged Bunny.
“Aunt Bethany says Mommy ran away.”
My heart broke all over again.
Marisol’s expression remained calm.
“What does Daddy say?”
“Daddy says Mommy loved me.”
“She did,” I said immediately.
Rosie looked at me.
“I know.”
Those two words nearly made me cry.
After the examination, Rosie fell asleep.
For the first time all day, I was alone with my thoughts.
I borrowed a hospital phone and called Jenna again.
“Can I come to you tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Don’t.”
“I think Bethany has a key.”
“I’ll meet you somewhere first.”
“Why?”
“Because if they’re watching you, I don’t want them following you to my house.”
She had become as frightened as I was.
“Where?”
“A hotel.”
We chose one twenty minutes from the hospital.
Registered under Jenna’s name.
I told nobody else.
Then I asked the question that had been burning inside me.
“Why did Emily think Dad was watching her?”
Jenna hesitated.
“Money.”
“What money?”
“Your grandfather’s trust.”
I frowned.
“My grandfather didn’t leave me a trust.”
“That’s what you were told.”
A strange coldness spread through me.
“What are you saying?”
“Emily found documents.”
My grandfather had died when I was nineteen.
A successful construction developer.
Dad inherited the family company.
Bethany and I were both told there was no separate inheritance.
Just the business.
“You’re saying Grandpa left me money?”
“Emily thought so.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“But Dad controlled it?”
“She thought there was a trust tied to you and your children.”
My eyes moved toward Rosie.
“What does that have to do with her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Jenna.”
“I swear.”
I rubbed my face.
“This sounds insane.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me after Emily died?”
“Because I didn’t have proof.”
“You still should have told me.”
“You were barely functioning.”
“That wasn’t your decision.”
“I know.”
Her voice cracked.
“I know, Ryan. I’m sorry.”
I looked at Rosie.
My anger faded.
We had all made mistakes around grief.
The difference was Jenna seemed capable of admitting hers.
“Did Emily mention Daniel?”
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“She called him your father’s fixer.”
I leaned back.
“Daniel wasn’t even part of the family then.”
“He worked for your father.”
Daniel had met Bethany through Dad’s company.
Of course.
I had forgotten that too.
He’d handled contracts.
Disputes.
Employee problems.
Anything Dad wanted handled quietly.
“What did Emily think he did?”
“She didn’t know.”
Then Jenna corrected herself.
“No. That’s not true.”
“What?”
“She said Daniel was good at making problems disappear.”
A knock sounded at the hospital room.
I ended the call.
Officer Alvarez stepped inside.
She looked tired.
But serious.
“Mr. Carter.”
“Ryan.”
“Ryan. Can we talk?”
I nodded.
She glanced at sleeping Rosie.
“Outside?”
We stepped into the hallway.
“What happened?”
“Your father has been detained.”
My heart thumped.
“For the car?”
“For suspected vehicle tampering and reckless endangerment. Additional charges will depend on the inspection and prosecutor.”
I nodded slowly.
“And Bethany?”
“Investigators are reviewing the video.”
“Daniel?”
“Currently not detained.”
I wasn’t surprised.
“There’s something else.”
Alvarez held a small notebook.
“The memory card Claire gave us contained several video files.”
My stomach turned.
“How many?”
“More than one.”
“Of Rosie?”
“Yes.”
I shut my eyes.
“How many?”
“At least six appear to involve her.”
Six.
Six times.
My daughter had been frightened or humiliated or hurt while I trusted the people doing it.
I wanted to destroy something.
Instead I gripped the railing.
“What are they doing in the videos?”
“I can’t discuss all of the content yet.”
“Is she hurt?”
“In some, she is distressed.”
I breathed through my nose.
“Anything else?”
Alvarez hesitated.
“There is one video that does not involve Rosie.”
I looked at her.
“Who?”
“Your wife.”
My entire body went cold.
“Emily?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The timestamp is three days before her death.”
I stopped breathing.
“What happens?”
“We are still determining context.”
“What happens?”
Alvarez studied me.
Then spoke carefully.
“The video appears to have been recorded inside your parents’ home.”
I waited.
“In it, your wife is arguing with your father.”
“What about?”
“Money. A trust. And documents.”
Jenna was right.
I grabbed the railing harder.
“Does Daniel appear?”
“Yes.”
My heart hammered.
“Bethany?”
“No.”
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“What does Emily say?”
Alvarez glanced at her notes.
“I can’t provide the entire recording before investigators process it.”
“Give me something.”
She paused.
“Your wife tells your father she has made copies of documents and says that if he threatens her again, she will go to the police.”
My legs nearly gave out.
“What does Dad say?”
Officer Alvarez looked directly at me.
“He tells her she won’t get the chance.”
The hallway seemed to disappear.
I heard only that sentence.
She won’t get the chance.
Three days later, Emily died.
I looked toward Rosie’s room.
“Does that change her death investigation?”
“It may.”
“May?”
“We have to verify the recording, timestamps, chain of custody, and all related evidence.”
“But you’re contacting someone.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Detectives are already reaching out to the agency that handled your wife’s crash.”
My eyes burned.
Alvarez continued.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“Near the end of the recording, Emily says something to your mother.”
“What?”
“She says, ‘Margaret, if anything happens to me, tell Ryan where you hid the blue folder.’”
I stared at Alvarez.
“The blue folder?”
She nodded.
“Does that mean anything to you?”
“No.”
Then a memory struck me.
After Emily’s funeral, Mom had come to my apartment with a box.
Old photographs.
Rosie’s baby clothes.
Documents.
She told me Emily had left the box at their house.
Among the papers had been an empty blue folder.
I remembered because I had almost thrown it away.
But something written on the inside had stopped me.
Three words.
In Emily’s handwriting.
Trust your instincts.
At the time, I thought it was an old work note.
I had put the folder in a drawer.
The same apartment Bethany may now have a key to.
I looked at Alvarez.
“I know where the folder is.”
She immediately straightened.
“Where?”
“My apartment.”
“Do not go there.”
“I understand.”
“We’ll send officers.”
I nodded.
Then I remembered Daniel arriving at the hospital.
The threat.
His knowledge of Jenna.
My skin prickled.
“Do it now.”
Alvarez saw my expression.
“What?”
“If Daniel knows about the folder—”
Her radio crackled.
Another officer’s voice.
She listened.
Her expression changed.
“Repeat that.”
Static.
Then a sentence.
Possible residential fire.
My address.
May you like
I didn’t need to hear anything else.
Someone had reached my apartment first.
