Chapter 6
David read the note three times.
Each time, his face lost more color.
Ask David what Rachel knew before she died.
I stood in the doorway of his home office while Detective Reyes photographed the desk.
The room smelled like dust, paper, and old coffee.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
A laptop.
A stack of invoices.
A framed photo of David, Rachel, and Ethan at the beach.
Rachel was laughing in the picture.
Ethan sat on David’s shoulders, chubby hands tangled in his father’s hair.
David stared at the note beside Linda’s wedding ring.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He did not answer.
“David.”
He looked at me.
Something moved behind his eyes.
A memory.
A fear.
“I don’t know.”
But he said it like a man who did know something.
Detective Reyes noticed too.
“Mr. Harper.”
David rubbed both hands down his face.
“Rachel was worried before she died.”
“About Linda?” I asked.
“No. I didn’t know Linda then.”
He picked up the beach photo, then set it down again.
“She was worried about money.”
I frowned.
“I thought Rachel handled the finances.”
“She did. She was better at it. Before she got sick, she found something strange in my business accounts.”
“What kind of strange?”
“Payments to a consulting company I didn’t recognize.”
Detective Reyes wrote it down.
“Name?”
David closed his eyes.
“Silver Pine Strategies.”
That name meant nothing to me.
But Detective Reyes looked up sharply.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She exchanged a look with the officer beside her.
“Silver Pine came up in another case.”
David stepped closer.
“What case?”
“I can’t discuss details.”
“Was Linda connected to it?”
“I said I can’t discuss details.”
David’s hands curled into fists.
“My wife is dead. My son was abused. If Linda had something to do with Rachel—”
He stopped.
Because saying it out loud changed the air.
Rachel had died of cancer.
Everyone knew that.
There had been casseroles.
Fundraisers.
Hospital visits.
A funeral.
Cancer was cruel.
But it was natural.
Wasn’t it?
Detective Reyes softened her voice.
“Mr. Harper, did Rachel ever say she felt unsafe?”
David looked toward the window.
“She said someone was watching the house.”
My stomach sank.
“She told me she saw a dark car parked across the street twice. I thought it was stress. Medication. Fear.”
He laughed once.
A sound full of shame.
“She was dying, and I told her she was imagining things.”
Detective Reyes asked, “Did she keep records of the payments?”
“Yes. She kept everything.”
“In the firebox?”
David nodded.
The missing firebox suddenly felt heavier than any evidence we had found.
It held Rachel’s videos.
Rachel’s documents.
Maybe Rachel’s final warning.
And Linda had known exactly where to take it.
At the hospital, Ethan was quieter than before.
He watched every adult who entered the room.
Every nurse.
Every social worker.
Every officer.
He was learning safety slowly, but fear still moved faster.
David told him the firebox was missing.
Ethan’s face crumpled.
“Mommy’s birthday videos?”
“We are going to find them,” David promised.
Ethan shook his head.
“Linda said Mommy belonged to her now.”
I sat beside him.
“What does that mean, sweetheart?”
He pulled the blanket to his chin.
“She said if I was bad, she would erase Mommy.”
David closed his eyes.
Detective Reyes asked gently, “Did Linda ever show you where she put the box?”
Ethan hesitated.
His fingers picked at the blanket edge.
“She took it to Uncle Mark.”
David’s head snapped up.
“Mark?”
I looked at him.
“Who is Mark?”
“My brother.”
The word came out flat.
I had seen Mark Harper only a handful of times.
Tall.
Charming.
Always joking too loud at neighborhood barbecues.
He lived two towns over.
He and David were not close.
I remembered Linda laughing with him once in the driveway while David loaded groceries inside.
At the time, it had meant nothing.
Now everything meant something.
Detective Reyes wrote down Mark’s name.
David looked sick.
“Why would she take it to Mark?”
Ethan stared at his lap.
“Because Uncle Mark said you were stupid.”
David flinched.
“He said after Mommy died, everything would be easy.”
The room went still.
Detective Reyes asked, “When did he say that?”
Ethan whispered, “When Linda thought I was asleep.”
David stood.
“What?”
Ethan started crying harder.
“I wasn’t asleep. I was under the table. Linda told him she was tired of waiting.”
David grabbed the back of the chair.
“Waiting for what?”
Ethan looked at his father.
His little face twisted with terror.
“For you to sign the papers.”
No one spoke.
“What papers?” David asked.
Ethan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Detective Reyes stepped out to make calls.
David paced the room like a trapped animal.
I followed him into the hallway.
“David, breathe.”
“My brother,” he whispered. “My own brother.”
“We don’t know everything yet.”
“He called me last week.”
“What did he want?”
David looked at me.
“He said I should update my will because Linda was pregnant.”
A cold line ran down my spine.
“Did you?”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“But I made an appointment with my lawyer for Friday.”
Friday was two days away.
Linda had not just been abusing Ethan.
She had been moving pieces.
Pregnancy.
A will.
A missing firebox.
A hidden room.
A brother.
And Rachel’s warning from beyond the grave.
Detective Reyes returned.
Her face told us the news before she spoke.
“We checked Mark Harper’s house,” she said.
David stepped forward.
“And?”
“He is gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Neighbors say he left in a hurry this morning with a woman matching Linda’s description.”
David gripped the wall.
Detective Reyes continued.
“They took two suitcases and a metal lockbox.”
Ethan screamed from inside the room.
We ran back in.
He was staring at the window.
May you like
On the glass, written from the outside in thick black marker, were six words.
Tell Daddy the baby is Mark’s.
