Chapter 9 - I couldn't process what Daniel had said.Emma wasn't supposed to collapse at home.
She was supposed to be drugged at the hospital.
That meant the birthday party had been a diversion.
A backup plan.
Or worse.
An emergency change.
“Why would anyone want Emma at the hospital?” I asked.
Daniel looked at Mark.
“Because your husband discovered the wrong file.”
“What file?”
“A patient transfer record.”
I stared.
“What does that have to do with Emma?”
Daniel explained.
For months, Mark had noticed medications disappearing from the hospital inventory.
At first, he blamed theft.
Then he noticed something stranger.
Certain medications were disappearing immediately before emergency surgeries.
The inventory system would show they had been administered.
But no patient chart contained them.
Someone was creating false surgical records.
A ghost trail.
Mark began investigating.
He discovered that the false records were linked to patients whose families had expensive life insurance policies.
“Someone was killing people?” I whispered.
Daniel shook his head.
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
“Someone was making sick people look sicker.”
I stared.
They were staging medical complications.
Collecting insurance.
Moving patients between hospitals.
Changing diagnoses.
A massive fraud operation.
Mark had discovered it by accident.
Then he found something that terrified everyone.
Emma's name.
She had been entered into a private medical database months before her birthday.
But Emma had never been treated at that hospital.
“How?” I asked.
Daniel's expression hardened.
“Because someone had access to her pediatric records.”
Mark looked at me.
“Rachel.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Daniel interrupted.
“Rachel wasn't the one who entered the record.”
“Then who?”
He turned toward Detective Hayes.
“Eleanor Price.”
I felt cold.
“Why would Daniel's wife care about my daughter?”
“She didn't,” Daniel said.
“She cared about what your daughter could inherit.”
I frowned.
Emma was only seven.
“She has no inheritance.”
Daniel looked at Mark.
“Not yet.”
My husband closed his eyes.
I realized there was something he had never told me.
“What?”
He whispered.
“Your father left Emma a trust.”
My breath caught.
My father had been dead for four years.
He had owned a logistics company.
He had never mentioned a trust to me.
Mark continued.
“It was worth nearly two million dollars.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because your father made me executor.”
I almost laughed.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
The trust could only be accessed when Emma turned eighteen.
Unless she died.
Then the money passed to a secondary beneficiary.
I asked who.
Mark couldn't answer.
Detective Hayes did.
“Rachel.”
The room went silent.
Rachel.
My sister.
The woman who had made the lemonade.
The woman who had lied about the money.
The woman who had warned me.
The woman who had supposedly been trying to protect Emma.
Everything suddenly looked different.
Rachel had a motive.
Mark had access.
Eleanor had the medical connections.
Daniel had the knowledge.
And Malcolm had the money.
The pieces were finally touching.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown.
I answered.
A man's voice whispered:
“You still think Mark is the villain.”
I said nothing.
“He isn't.”
“Who are you?”
“You met Malcolm.”
My heart stopped.
“You were in the hotel?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“To keep your daughter alive.”
“What do you know?”
He inhaled slowly.
“Your sister never borrowed money from Malcolm.”
I froze.
“She borrowed it from Mark.”
“What?”
“And the three hundred thousand dollars?”
He laughed quietly.
“That wasn't gambling money.”
“Then what was it?”
His answer made my blood run cold.
“It was the price of a murder.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Mark.
May you like
He was staring at me.
And for once, he didn't deny anything.
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