[CHAPTER 6]
By noon, Laura’s death was no longer just an old tragedy.
It was an active investigation.
Sheriff Bennett warned me not to jump ahead of the evidence.
I tried.
I failed.
Every memory became suspicious.
Every conversation with Claire rearranged itself inside my head.
The first time she visited after Laura’s funeral.
The way she knew exactly which tea I drank.
The way she remembered Ethan’s favorite book.
The way she told me Laura had once mentioned how lonely I became when work overwhelmed me.
At the time, I thought it meant Laura had trusted her.
Now I wondered whether Claire had simply been studying us.
I sat at the kitchen table while Ethan built a crooked tower from wooden blocks.
He kept checking my face.
Finally, he asked, “Did Claire hurt Mommy?”
I froze.
“Why would you ask that?”
“You look like when Grandma told you the police couldn’t fix Mommy.”
My mother had stayed with us after Laura died.
Ethan remembered more than I realized.
I moved beside him.
“The police are checking something from before Mommy died.”
“What?”
“Some things Claire may have done.”
“Bad things?”
“Yes.”
“Did she hurt Mommy?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He looked down.
“I think she did.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
He hesitated.
Then he whispered, “Because she said Mommy was stupid.”
I stared at him.
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Before she made me sleep downstairs.”
“What exactly did she say?”
Ethan’s lower lip trembled.
“She got mad because I had Mommy’s picture.”
I waited.
“She threw it.”
My heart pounded.
“And she said, ‘Your mother should have stayed out of things that weren’t her business.’”
I stopped breathing.
“Ethan, are you sure?”
He nodded.
“Then she told me not to tell you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
His answer was barely audible.
“Because she said she would send Atlas away.”
I looked toward the window.
Atlas stood in the distant pasture.
Claire had discovered the perfect way to control Ethan.
She knew he loved the horses.
So she threatened what he loved.
I called Bennett immediately.
He came to the ranch with a child-interview specialist named Ms. Porter.
I did not sit in the room while Ethan spoke with her.
That was deliberate.
Bennett told me children could feel pressure when a parent was present.
So I waited outside.
Those forty minutes were worse than any board meeting, negotiation, or funeral arrangement I had ever endured.
When Ms. Porter finally emerged, her expression was gentle but serious.
“He disclosed several things consistent with ongoing emotional and physical intimidation.”
My knees weakened.
“Physical?”
“He described being struck with a rope on more than one occasion.”
I closed my eyes.
“He also described food being withheld as punishment and periods of isolation.”
I sat down.
“I was here.”
“You were working.”
“I lived in the same house.”
Ms. Porter did not excuse me.
I appreciated that.
She simply said, “What matters now is what you do with what you know.”
I looked through the small window in the door.
Ethan was drawing Atlas.
“I should have known.”
“You should have asked more questions.”
The words hurt.
They were also true.
I nodded.
“I will never stop asking again.”
Bennett joined us.
“We have another problem.”
I stood.
“What?”
“Mark Whitmore is missing.”
Claire’s brother.
“He was supposed to meet investigators this morning. He never showed.”
“Did you search his house?”
“Empty.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to find him.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Silence.
“Hello?”
A man breathed on the other end.
Then a voice said, “Stop digging.”
The call ended.
Bennett saw my expression.
“What happened?”
I told him.
He took my phone.
“Do not answer unknown calls without recording from now on.”
“Was that Mark?”
“I don’t know.”
That evening, I moved Ethan into the downstairs guest room beside mine.
Not because I wanted him hidden.
Because he asked.
“Can I sleep close to you?”
“Yes.”
I installed nothing elaborate.
No fortress.
No cameras inside his room.
He had already lived under too much control.
I simply locked the exterior doors and followed Bennett’s safety instructions.
At eight, I read Ethan a story.
Halfway through, he interrupted.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still love Claire?”
The question caught me off guard.
I thought carefully.
“I loved who I thought she was.”
“Is that different?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I closed the book.
“Sometimes people show us one version of themselves. We love that version because we think it’s real.”
“But it isn’t?”
“Not always.”
He considered that.
“Did she pretend with me too?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He leaned against my side.
“I don’t want another mom.”
I kissed his hair.
“You don’t need one.”
“I just want you.”
My throat tightened.
“You have me.”
“And Atlas.”
I smiled for the first time that day.
“And Atlas.”
A loud bang came from outside.
Ethan jumped.
I stood immediately.
“Stay here.”
“No!”
His panic stopped me.
I looked at him.
“Come with me.”
We moved together to the hallway.
Another sound.
Metal scraping.
I called Bennett.
Then I looked through the side window.
A pickup truck sat near the barn.
No lights.
Someone moved beside Atlas’s stall.
My pulse exploded.
“Ethan, stay behind me.”
We remained inside.
I did not confront the person.
Within minutes, Bennett’s deputies arrived from opposite ends of the property.
The figure ran.
He made it halfway across the pasture before Deputy Ruiz tackled him.
I watched through the window.
Ethan whispered, “Who is it?”
I did not know until they brought him toward the patrol car.
Mark Whitmore.
Claire’s brother.
Mud covered his jeans.
His right hand clutched a screwdriver.
Bennett searched him.
Then he looked toward me.
“Daniel, come outside.”
I left Ethan with Ruiz after she returned.
Mark stared at me with exhausted eyes.
“You should have left the box buried.”
I stepped closer.
“What did you come for?”
He laughed weakly.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
He looked toward the barn.
“There wasn’t only one box.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
Mark nodded toward Ruby’s stall.
“Laura made copies.”
Bennett turned.
“Where?”
Mark smiled.
“Ask Claire.”
I grabbed his jacket before Bennett pulled me away.
“What happened to Laura?”
Mark’s smile disappeared.
May you like
For a second, real fear entered his face.
Then he whispered, “I didn’t know Claire was going to make it permanent.”
