Chapter 6
Marcus refused to speak for almost five minutes.
He walked out of the cabin and stood beside the woods with both hands on his head.
Andre followed but kept his distance.
Rachel stayed inside with Noah.
Detective Brooks waited near the porch.
The sky had darkened.
Rain smelled close.
Marcus finally said, “I was home that night.”
Andre stopped.
“What night?”
“Dad’s accident.”
Andre stared.
“You told everyone you were at college.”
“I came home.”
“Why?”
“Elena.”
Andre blinked.
“Elena?”
“We were dating.”
Andre remembered.
Marcus and Elena had broken up for several months before marrying.
“You came home to see her?”
“Yes.”
“Why lie?”
“Because Mom asked me to.”
Andre’s anger returned.
“Of course she did.”
Marcus turned.
“I was nineteen.”
“And?”
“And I was scared.”
“Of what?”
Marcus looked toward Brooks.
Then back at Andre.
“Dad was furious.”
Andre waited.
“He had packed two suitcases. He kept them in the garage because he didn’t want Mom to see.”
Andre’s chest tightened.
“He was leaving.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus swallowed.
“He said he was done.”
“With Mom?”
“With everything she was doing.”
“What was she doing?”
Marcus squeezed his eyes shut.
“I didn’t understand.”
“Try.”
“He said she had been taking money. Moving it. Using accounts in his name.”
Church reimbursements.
Payments.
Records.
Andre felt pieces aligning.
“Did you tell Mom?”
Marcus looked away.
Andre’s stomach dropped.
“You did.”
“She asked why Dad was acting strange.”
“So you told her he was leaving.”
“I thought she deserved to know.”
Andre stepped back.
“What happened?”
Marcus’s voice broke.
“They fought.”
“In the garage?”
“Kitchen first. Then garage.”
“Were you there?”
“I was upstairs.”
“But Vance’s letter says you saw something.”
Marcus nodded.
“I heard Dad shout.”
“What?”
“I don’t remember the exact words.”
“Marcus.”
“He said, ‘You could have killed me last night.’”
Andre froze.
Brooks moved closer.
“With medication?”
Marcus looked at her.
“I think so.”
“What happened next?”
“I went downstairs.”
His breathing became shallow.
Andre said, “Take your time.”
Marcus nodded.
“Dad was in the garage. Mom was holding his medicine bottle.”
Andre felt his hands go cold.
“And Vance?”
“He was there.”
Brooks’s expression sharpened.
“Inside the garage?”
“Yes.”
“What was he doing?”
“Talking to Dad.”
“What did you hear?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Vance said the dosage was supposed to calm him down.”
Andre felt sick.
“What did Dad say?”
“He said he never asked to be calmed down.”
Rain began tapping the leaves.
Marcus continued.
“Dad told Vance he was reporting both of them.”
Brooks asked, “For what?”
“I don’t know.”
Andre did.
“Money.”
Marcus nodded.
“Probably.”
“What did Mom do?”
“She saw me.”
His face twisted.
“She told me to go upstairs.”
“And you did?”
“Yes.”
Andre turned away.
He wanted to scream.
Marcus said, “Dad left ten minutes later.”
“Drugged?”
“I didn’t know.”
“You heard them talking about dosage.”
“I didn’t know how much he had taken.”
“So you watched him drive?”
“Yes.”
Andre stared at his brother.
Raymond Bell had died forty minutes later.
Marcus began crying.
“I should have stopped him.”
“Yes,” Andre said.
Brooks looked at him, but Andre did not care.
Marcus nodded as if he deserved the word.
“He called me.”
Andre’s breath caught.
“What?”
“From the road.”
“When?”
“About fifteen minutes after he left.”
“What did he say?”
Marcus took out his wallet.
Inside, behind an old insurance card, was a tiny folded piece of paper.
He handed it to Andre.
A phone number.
A date.
A time.
“What is this?”
“I wrote down the voicemail information before Mom made me delete it.”
Andre stared.
“You had a voicemail?”
Marcus nodded.
“What did Dad say?”
“I listened once.”
“What did he say?”
Marcus’s voice cracked.
“He said, ‘Marcus, if anything happens, take Andre and go to your Aunt June. Do not let your mother handle the accounts.’”
Andre’s eyes burned.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mom was standing behind me when I listened.”
Andre’s hands shook.
Marcus continued.
“She said Dad was confused. She said the medication made him paranoid.”
“And you believed her.”
“I wanted to.”
Andre turned away.
Those three words were the story of the family.
I wanted to.
Wanted to believe Mom meant well.
Wanted to believe Dad’s death was an accident.
Wanted to believe Elena was dramatic.
Wanted to believe Andre had abandoned them.
Wanted to believe Noah’s fear was grief.
Truth had been available in fragments for years.
Comfort had always been easier.
Brooks asked, “Does the voicemail still exist?”
“It was three phones ago.”
“Cloud backup?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’ll subpoena records.”
Andre stared at the paper.
Aunt June.
Their father’s younger sister.
They had not seen her since the funeral.
Lorraine said June had accused the family of stealing.
Then she stopped being invited.
Andre laughed without humor.
“Of course.”
Marcus understood.
“Aunt June.”
“Mom cut her off too.”
Brooks asked for contact information.
Neither brother had it.
Andre searched online.
June Bell-Mendoza.
A retired accountant living in Arizona.
He found an old professional listing.
Brooks said she would contact local authorities first.
Andre shook his head.
“No.”
“She may be a witness.”
“That’s why I want to talk to her.”
“And that’s why we need to do this correctly.”
He hated it.
But she was right.
Inside the cabin, Noah laughed at something Rachel said.
The sound pulled Andre back.
This was not only about Raymond.
Or Elena.
It was about making sure Noah never inherited the family’s habit of protecting silence.
That afternoon, police confirmed the threatening text had been sent from the phone found in Vance’s car.
They also found Lorraine’s number in recent calls.
Twenty-three calls in forty-eight hours.
The last occurred one hour before the sedan appeared outside the house.
Vance remained missing.
So did Lorraine.
At six, Brooks received another update.
A traffic camera had captured Lorraine’s car heading south.
Toward the city.
Toward her own neighborhood.
“She’s circling back,” Marcus said.
“Or she never left,” Andre replied.
Brooks looked at both.
“We have officers at her house.”
Rachel shook her head.
“What about ours?”
Marcus’s face changed.
The house.
His home.
Where Noah’s room was.
Where Elena’s things had been.
He called a neighbor.
No answer.
Then the home security app.
His password failed.
He tried again.
Failed.
Rachel came closer.
“She changed it.”
“Who?”
Marcus stared.
“My mother set up the system.”
Andre felt dread.
Marcus called the security company.
After identity verification, they reset the account.
The camera feeds loaded.
Kitchen.
Driveway.
Living room.
Backyard.
Noah’s room.
Andre stared.
“There’s a camera in his bedroom?”
Marcus looked confused.
“No.”
The feed was live.
A small camera was positioned high on a bookshelf, showing Noah’s bed.
Rachel’s face went white.
“I never installed that.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Neither did I.”
Andre remembered Noah’s words.
She hits different when people aren’t looking.
Except perhaps someone had always been looking.
Marcus opened recorded events.
Hundreds.
Months of footage.
Rachel whispered, “Oh God.”
Brooks stepped forward.
“Stop.”
Marcus looked at her.
“Do not delete or alter anything. We need preservation.”
He nodded.
They scrolled only enough to confirm dates.
Lorraine appeared in the room repeatedly.
Sometimes alone.
Sometimes with Noah.
In one thumbnail, Noah sat on the edge of his bed while Lorraine stood above him.
In another, she held the family photograph.
Andre’s stomach turned.
“What was she doing?”
Brooks said, “We’ll review it.”
Marcus stared at the timeline.
“There’s an event tonight.”
Everyone looked.
The timestamp was twenty minutes earlier.
Movement in Noah’s room.
Marcus clicked before Brooks could stop him.
The video loaded.
Lorraine entered the bedroom.
Alive.
Calm.
Wearing a dark coat.
She walked directly toward Noah’s dresser.
Opened the bottom drawer.
Removed a small wooden box.
Andre recognized it.
“Elena’s.”
Marcus stood.
“That’s Noah’s memory box.”
Lorraine carried it toward the camera.
For one second her face filled the screen.
Then she stopped.
Looked directly into the lens.
And smiled.
Rachel whispered, “She knows we can see her.”
Lorraine lifted something from the box.
A flash drive.
Then she held up a piece of paper toward the camera.
Written in thick black marker were six words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET THE DEAD REST.
The video ended.
Marcus grabbed his keys.
Brooks blocked him.
“No.”
“She is in my house.”
“She was twenty minutes ago.”
“She took Elena’s drive.”
“What’s on it?”
“I don’t know.”
Andre suddenly remembered Elena’s letter.
The second copy.
Ask Rachel. She knows where I put the second copy.
He turned.
“Rachel.”
She stared.
“What?”
“Elena said you knew where she put a second copy.”
Rachel frowned.
“Of the letter.”
“Maybe not.”
Andre pointed to the paused image of the flash drive.
“What if she meant everything?”
Rachel’s eyes widened.
She thought.
Then ran to her bag.
She pulled out her phone and searched old messages.
“Elena sent me something two weeks before she died.”
“What?”
“A photo.”
Rachel scrolled.
Found it.
The image showed Elena’s hands holding a children’s book.
GOODNIGHT MOON.
On the inside cover, Elena had written:
For Noah. Two stories are always safer than one.
Marcus looked confused.
Andre did not.
He knew Elena’s sense of humor.
She hid serious things inside jokes.
“Where is the book?”
Marcus stared toward the screen.
“Noah’s room.”
Rachel shook her head.
“No. Elena gave me that copy.”
Everyone turned.
Rachel’s face had gone pale.
“I put it in a box when I moved.”
“Where?”
“My apartment.”
Marcus said, “The one you still rent?”
She nodded.
Andre grabbed his coat.
Brooks raised a hand.
“Police go first.”
An hour later, officers entered Rachel’s apartment.
The box was there.
So was the book.
Inside the back cover, beneath a strip of glued paper, they found a microSD card.
Brooks inserted it into an evidence laptop.
There were eleven files.
Scanned bank statements.
Photographs of Lorraine’s notebook pages.
Audio recordings.
And one video.
Dated four days before Elena’s death.
On screen, Elena sat in a hospital bed.
She looked exhausted.
Thin.
But completely lucid.
She stared into the camera.
“If you’re watching this,” she said, “Lorraine found out I know about Raymond.”
Marcus stopped breathing.
Elena continued.
“Raymond Bell did not die because he took too much medicine by accident.”
Andre gripped the table.
“He was drugged before he drove.”
Marcus whispered, “Oh God.”
Elena leaned closer to the camera.
“And Harold Vance knows exactly who gave it to him.”
She paused.
Then looked off screen, frightened.
“I have proof.”
The video ended.
But beneath it was another file.
An audio recording.
Its title was only one word.
GARAGE.
Andre clicked play.
Raymond’s voice filled the room.
Then Lorraine’s.
And then Vance’s.
May you like
The recording began with Raymond shouting:
“You put it in my coffee.”
