Chapter 2 - BENEATH THE FLOOR
I called the police before touching anything.
Vanessa stared at me as if I had betrayed her.
That almost made me laugh.
“You’re really doing this?”
I looked at my children.
“Yes.”
Two patrol officers arrived first.
Then a detective from family services.
Her name was Leah Morgan.
She took photographs of Ethan’s arms.
Lily’s wrist.
The broken lamp beside the sofa.
The wooden hanger.
Vanessa kept repeating that the children were difficult.
That Ethan bruised easily.
That Lily exaggerated.
Detective Morgan listened without reacting.
Then she asked.
“Do children exaggerate bruises under their sleeves?”
Vanessa stopped talking.
I took the kids upstairs.
They refused to let go of me.
Not even long enough to pack.
So we stayed in the hallway while officers searched.
When one of them called my name, I felt my chest tighten.
My office was at the end of the second floor.
Rachel had designed it.
Dark walnut shelves.
A large desk facing the garden.
An old brass lamp she found at an estate sale.
I had barely changed anything after she died.
An officer pointed toward the floor near my desk.
One plank had been pried loose.
Underneath was a shallow cavity.
Inside sat a gray metal box.
I recognized it.
Rachel used to keep old photographs in one just like it.
Detective Morgan put on gloves.
“Did you know this was here?”
“No.”
“Do you have the key?”
“No.”
Ethan spoke from behind me.
“We do.”
I turned.
He reached into his sneaker.
He removed a tiny brass key.
My mouth went dry.
“Where did you get that?”
“Mommy’s jewelry box.”
Vanessa, standing with another officer in the doorway, suddenly said.
“Don’t open it.”
Every head turned toward her.
She realized her mistake.
“I mean, not without a warrant or something.”
Detective Morgan looked at me.
“This is your house?”
“Yes.”
“Your floor?”
“Yes.”
“Your deceased wife’s belongings?”
“As far as I know.”
She handed me the key.
“Then you can open it.”
Vanessa’s face lost color.
I knelt.
The key fit.
The lock clicked.
Inside were three envelopes.
A flash drive.
A small black notebook.
And a photograph.
I picked up the photograph first.
Rachel was standing beside a black SUV.
Next to her stood a man I knew immediately.
My older brother.
Michael.
I hadn’t spoken to him in almost two years.
On the back, Rachel had written a date.
Nine days before she died.
Below it were three words.
MICHAEL KNOWS EVERYTHING.
Then Lily whispered.
“There’s another picture.”
Under the first photograph was one of Vanessa.
Three years younger.
Standing outside a motel.
Beside Michael.
May you like
And written across the bottom in Rachel’s handwriting were the words.
IF DANIEL SEES THIS, I’M ALREADY IN DANGER.
