Chapter 6 - The police searched the house until dawn.Michael barely spoke.
Emma sat in a guest room wrapped in a blanket.
The officers treated her gently.
They asked questions.
She answered only a few.
Most of the time she looked at Michael.
Every time she did, he felt the same stab of guilt.
He had believed Ashley.
He had ignored small things.
Emma becoming quiet.
Emma asking to sleep with the hallway light on.
Emma refusing to go into the closet.
He had called it adjustment.
He had called it grief.
He had been wrong.
At sunrise, Detective Lena Brooks entered the kitchen.
She placed a photograph on the table.
The coat.
Sarah's coat.
“It's definitely your wife's.”
Michael stared at it.
“That coat was in her closet.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
Michael frowned.
“Of course.”
Detective Brooks looked at Daniel.
“Mr. Mercer says you've been investigating Sarah's death.”
Daniel nodded.
The detective turned back to Michael.
“Your wife's case was closed as an accident.”
“I know.”
“We're reopening it.”
Michael looked up.
“Because of the coat?”
“Because of several things.”
She placed another photograph beside it.
A road map.
The location where Sarah died.
A second car had been detected on a traffic camera.
A dark sedan.
The plate belonged to a rental company.
The rental agreement had been signed by a woman named Ashley Reed.
Michael felt sick.
“Ashley rented the car?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two days before Sarah's death.”
Daniel whispered:
“She told me she didn't know Sarah.”
Detective Brooks looked at him.
“People tell you a lot of things.”
Michael turned to the detective.
“Ashley had documents showing Emma was unstable.”
“We found copies.”
“Are they fake?”
“Yes.”
“Who forged them?”
“We don't know.”
The detective opened a folder.
“But someone accessed school records using your credentials.”
Michael frowned.
“I've never accessed the school system.”
The detective slid another document toward him.
The login history.
Every unauthorized entry had been made from an internet connection located inside Michael's home.
Michael looked up.
“Ashley.”
“Possibly.”
Then the detective added:
“There's one more problem.”
“What?”
“Someone used your identity to request a transfer of funds from Emma's trust.”
Michael stood.
“How much?”
“One point eight million dollars.”
His face went pale.
“Was it approved?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Your wife had added a second verification step.”
Michael stared.
“Sarah.”
Detective Brooks nodded.
“Your wife may have saved the money before she died.”
Michael sat again.
For the first time, he understood.
The trust wasn't just about Emma's future.
It was the target.
Ashley had been building a legal story in which Emma was unstable.
Michael would eventually appear overwhelmed.
Then a court could intervene.
The trust could become vulnerable.
But there was another mystery.
“Why did Sarah think Ashley wanted Emma to identify Richard?”
Detective Brooks looked at him.
“You know Richard Vale?”
“Yes.”
“Very well?”
“He's my business partner.”
The detective wrote something down.
“Did Sarah know him?”
“Yes.”
“What was their relationship?”
Michael hesitated.
“Professional.”
Daniel looked at him.
Detective Brooks noticed.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Michael took out the USB.
He placed it on the table.
“She recorded this before she died.”
The detective watched the video.
When it ended, her expression had changed.
“You never showed this to police?”
“I didn't know it existed.”
The detective nodded.
“That matters.”
Michael stared at the screen.
Then another thought hit him.
“Where is Ashley?”
“We're looking.”
“She took Emma.”
“We know.”
“But Emma was found in the closet.”
“Yes.”
“So she came back.”
Detective Brooks said nothing.
Michael's face tightened.
“Ashley left Emma in the closet, then drove away with Sarah's coat.”
Detective Brooks nodded.
“It appears that way.”
“Why?”
No answer.
Michael looked toward the hallway.
The closet door was still open.
He walked toward it.
Emma's little stuffed rabbit had been left on the floor.
He picked it up.
Something felt wrong.
There was a tiny black mark on one ear.
Michael rubbed it.
The mark came off.
Paint.
He looked closer.
There was something underneath.
A tiny number.
12
He returned to the kitchen.
“Detective.”
She looked up.
Michael showed her the rabbit.
“Emma said Ashley locked her in the closet.”
“Yes.”
“She told me Ashley had used it before.”
“What are you thinking?”
Michael looked at Daniel.
Then the folder.
Then the closet.
“Ashley wasn't hiding Emma in there.”
Detective Brooks frowned.
“Then why?”
Michael's eyes hardened.
“She was hiding something else.”
They searched the closet again.
This time they removed everything.
Coats.
Shoes.
Storage boxes.
A second loose panel was found behind the floorboard.
Inside was a thin camera.
Tiny.
Modern.
Still powered.
Detective Brooks stared at it.
“Who installed this?”
Michael shook his head.
The camera had recorded continuously.
Two weeks.
Maybe more.
Detective Brooks connected it to a monitor.
The footage began.
Ashley entered the closet.
She knelt.
Opened the panel.
Removed a box.
Another clip.
Ashley spoke to someone.
The angle was poor.
But the voice was clear.
“Once Emma is gone, he'll sign everything.”
A man's voice answered.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
Then the camera captured the man's hand.
A silver ring.
Michael leaned toward the screen.
The footage continued.
Ashley looked directly toward the camera.
She was smiling.
And she said:
“Sarah thought she could hide the evidence here.”
Michael froze.
Ashley knew about the camera.
She knew about the closet.
She knew someone might eventually find it.
Then the man's face appeared.
Richard Vale.
He looked directly at Ashley.
“She hid it somewhere else.”
The footage ended.
Michael stared at the blank screen.
“Where?”
Nobody answered.
Emma appeared in the doorway.
Her face was pale.
“I know where.”
Michael turned.
“Where, sweetheart?”
Emma pointed upstairs.
“At Mommy's bedroom.”
May you like
Then she whispered:
“She hid it under the floor.”
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