Chapter 5 - THE RED CABINETAt 6:14 the next morning, Detective Alvarez walked into my hospital room carrying no coffee, no folder and no reassuring expression.
Rachel had been asleep in the chair beside my bed.
She woke instantly.
“What happened?”
Alvarez shut the door.
“The storage unit belonged to Lorraine Whitaker.”
I swallowed.
“And?”
“We recovered several items relevant to your case.”
“Relevant how?”
He sat.
That worried me.
Detectives don’t sit when the news is simple.
“There were copies of your financial records, medical records and estate documents.”
Rachel’s face hardened.
“What else?”
“Three prepaid phones.”
I thought of Denise.
“Was one used to contact her?”
“We’re checking.”
“What was behind the red cabinet?”
Alvarez looked at me directly.
“A locked file box.”
My fingers tightened around the blanket.
“Inside were printed copies of your life insurance documents.”
I stared at him.
Nathan and I had purchased life insurance after getting married.
Nothing unusual.
Then Alvarez continued.
“One policy was created eight months ago.”
“I didn’t create anything eight months ago.”
“It carries your electronic signature.”
“How much?”
“Two million dollars.”
Rachel stood.
“Beneficiary?”
Alvarez answered quietly.
“Nathan.”
Something inside me dropped.
“Did he know?”
“We're investigating.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I know it’s frustrating.”
“No, you don’t know anything about what this feels like.”
My voice rose.
“Every hour someone walks into this room with another piece of my life that apparently happened without me. My house. My money. My medical records. Now my death.”
Lily moved.
I pressed my palm against my stomach.
The anger immediately scared me.
I inhaled slowly.
Alvarez waited.
“What else was in the box?”
“Medication.”
My heart stopped.
“What medication?”
“Prescription sedatives.”
I thought about the staircase.
The night before, Lorraine had made tea.
Chamomile.
I had drunk half a cup.
Afterward, I felt dizzy.
I had blamed pregnancy.
“Were they mine?”
“No.”
“Lorraine’s?”
“No. The prescription belonged to her late husband.”
Nathan’s father.
He had died four years earlier.
Stroke, supposedly.
Rachel and I looked at each other.
Alvarez anticipated the question.
“We’re not drawing conclusions about another death based solely on old medication.”
“Is that all?”
“No.”
I almost didn’t want the rest.
“There were photographs.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
My stomach turned.
“Sleeping. Driving. At medical appointments.”
Rachel muttered something furious.
“Why?”
“We believe Lorraine documented your pregnancy and routines.”
“For insurance?”
“Possibly.”
Then Alvarez paused.
“One photograph shows you on the staircase landing the night you were injured.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“Before I fell?”
“Yes.”
“Who took it?”
“We don’t know yet.”
That meant another person had been present.
Nathan claimed he wasn’t home.
Lorraine claimed we were alone.
Someone was lying.
Again.
“What happened to Denise?”
“She’s safe.”
Relief flooded me.
“Where?”
“In protective custody.”
“Did someone attack her?”
“A man entered her apartment. She escaped through a rear stairwell and called police from a gas station.”
“Who was the man?”
“We’re identifying him.”
Rachel folded her arms.
“Let me guess. Nathan?”
“No.”
I was almost relieved.
Almost.
“Then who?”
“Lorraine’s brother, Calvin Mercer.”
The property developer.
The man receiving money from LW Holdings.
Suddenly the scheme widened.
This wasn’t just a family problem.
It was organized.
Alvarez stood.
“We’re arresting Calvin.”
“And Nathan?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me there was more.
“Nathan is missing.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“He left the residence during the night.”
“You let him leave?”
“He wasn’t under arrest.”
“Where is he?”
“We don't know.”
My first emotion wasn’t fear.
It was betrayal layered over betrayal.
Even now, Nathan ran.
He always ran from consequences.
By afternoon, my doctor announced I needed another forty-eight hours of monitoring but could potentially avoid immediate delivery.
Rachel helped me wash my hair.
I stared at myself afterward.
The bruising around my cheek had darkened.
I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.
Rachel stood behind me.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I look terrible.”
“You look alive.”
I met her eyes in the reflection.
Alive.
That mattered.
At five, Dana arrived with paperwork for an emergency protection order.
I signed everything.
Nathan could not approach me.
Lorraine could not contact me.
We arranged for police to retrieve essential belongings after my discharge.
“Where will you stay?” Dana asked.
“With me,” Rachel said.
I looked at her.
“In Chicago?”
“Where else?”
“My doctors are here.”
“Then I’ll stay here until they clear you to travel.”
“You have a job.”
“I have vacation.”
“You hate using vacation.”
“I hate attempted murder more.”
I laughed despite myself.
That night, Nathan called.
My temporary phone displayed UNKNOWN.
I almost ignored it.
Something made me answer.
“Emma.”
His voice.
I pressed record on the device Alvarez had given me.
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Police are looking for you.”
“I know.”
“You ran.”
“I’m trying to fix this.”
“You’ve been fixing things for years.”
“I found something.”
I stayed silent.
“My mom lied to me too.”
“Congratulations.”
“Emma, please.”
“No. You don't get to say please anymore.”
“I didn’t know about the insurance policy.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“I knew about the home equity loan.”
“So you admit fraud?”
A pause.
“I admit I was desperate.”
“For gambling money?”
“My debts were worse than you know.”
“I know about four hundred twenty thousand dollars.”
Silence.
“So they found that.”
“Yes.”
“My mother told me the loan was the only way out.”
“And forging my signature?”
“She said we’d pay it back before you ever knew.”
“And the house transfer?”
“I thought it was temporary collateral.”
I felt nothing.
His excuses had finally exhausted every emotional response.
“What happened on the stairs?”
His breathing changed.
“I wasn’t there when you fell.”
“There’s a photograph taken that night.”
“I know.”
My grip tightened.
“You know?”
“I took it.”
I sat upright.
“You said you weren’t home.”
“I left after.”
“What happened?”
“I heard you and Mom arguing.”
“Then?”
“She told you I was gambling again.”
Fragments returned.
Lorraine’s voice.
My own anger.
A hallway.
“You found out,” Nathan continued. “You said you were leaving me.”
I closed my eyes.
Memory flashed.
A suitcase.
Yes.
I had gone to the bedroom.
I remembered opening a drawer.
“I packed.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“You confronted me.”
“You were home.”
“Yes.”
“You lied for three months.”
“Yes.”
My heart hammered.
“Did your mother push me?”
Nathan began crying.
A sound I had heard only twice before.
“I should’ve stopped her.”
The room blurred.
“You watched.”
“I was down the hall.”
“You watched?”
“You were yelling. Mom grabbed your arm. You pulled away.”
“And?”
“She shoved you.”
I stopped breathing.
“You saw her.”
“Yes.”
“And you deleted the video.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said you’d take the baby and I’d lose everything.”
“Nathan, I could have lost our baby that night.”
“I know.”
“No. You knew then.”
He said nothing.
I wiped tears from my face.
“Why are you calling?”
“Because there’s something worse.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“My mother did not plan to kill you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That’s comforting.”
“She planned to make it look like you were mentally unstable.”
I went still.
“What?”
“The doctors. The complaints. The recordings.”
“What recordings?”
“She’s been recording your arguments and editing them.”
My blood chilled.
“For what?”
“Custody.”
The word struck harder than I expected.
“Custody of Lily?”
“She told me if you left, we could prove you were unstable after delivery. Get temporary custody. Control the trust through Lily.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
That was the plan.
If I lived, take my child.
If I died, Nathan received insurance and potentially other assets.
Either outcome benefited them.
“You went along with this?”
“At first I thought she was just protecting me.”
“From what?”
“Losing my daughter.”
“She is not yours to possess.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
“Emma—”
“Where are you?”
“I’m going to the police.”
“Then go.”
“I need one thing first.”
“No.”
“There’s a laptop.”
My heart tightened.
“What laptop?”
“My mother keeps records of everything. Payments. Calvin. Denise. Loans. Insurance.”
“Where?”
“In the house.”
“Police searched it.”
“They won’t find this one.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s inside Lily’s nursery.”
My throat closed.
“Where?”
“The rocking chair.”
“What?”
“The bottom cushion has a hidden compartment.”
Lorraine had bought that chair.
A gift.
She had insisted.
“It’s there,” Nathan said. “Take it to Alvarez.”
“You take it.”
“I can’t go back.”
“Why?”
His voice dropped.
“Because Calvin knows I talked.”
“Calvin was arrested.”
“No.”
My skin prickled.
“Yes, he was.”
“No, Emma. He wasn't.”
I stood from the hospital bed too fast.
“What are you talking about?”
“The man police arrested wasn’t Calvin.”
I stopped.
Nathan continued.
“My uncle has used his brother’s identity before.”
“Then who did they arrest?”
“His younger brother, Raymond.”
I grabbed the nurse-call remote.
“Where is Calvin?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is he coming after me?”
A pause.
That pause nearly stopped my heart.
“Nathan.”
“I think he’s coming for the laptop.”
A movement sounded outside my hospital room.
The door handle shifted.
I stared at it.
“Nathan?”
“Yes?”
“Did you tell anyone where I am?”
“No.”
The handle moved again.
Slowly.
Then a man’s voice came through the door.
“Hospital maintenance.”
It was eleven thirty at night.
I backed away.
May you like
On the phone, Nathan whispered:
“Emma, lock the door.”
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