Chapter 7 - THE REPLACEMENT
Arthur’s voicemail ended with an address.
A storage facility in Stamford.
Chloe obtained a warrant.
Unit 314 contained no furniture.
No valuables.
Only filing cabinets.
Inside were records on me.
Hundreds of pages.
But another cabinet contained something worse.
Information about three other women.
Rachel Mercer.
A woman named Melissa Grant.
And a twenty-nine-year-old investment consultant named Lauren Pierce.
Lauren was alive.
She worked in Manhattan.
And judging from the photographs, Dominic had been meeting her for months.
Restaurant receipts.
Hotel lobby photographs.
Copies of her financial statements.
Family information.
Inheritance estimates.
The same categories used in my Phase One file.
Chloe looked at me.
“She’s next.”
The realization hurt differently than discovering an affair.
Dominic wasn’t replacing a wife.
He was selecting another target.
Lauren had recently inherited a substantial portfolio from her father.
Her mother was dead.
She had no siblings.
She lived alone.
Every detail had been highlighted.
Near the bottom of one page was a handwritten note.
Low resistance after attachment.
I felt physically ill.
“Does Lauren know he’s married?”
“We’re finding her.”
The third woman, Melissa Grant, had dated Dominic briefly between Rachel and me.
Her file ended after four months.
A final note read:
UNSUITABLE.
STRONG FAMILY INTERFERENCE.
That phrase stayed with me.
Strong family interference.
Melissa had escaped because someone had remained close enough to notice.
I thought about Erin.
Dominic constantly told me my sister was jealous.
Too involved.
Disrespectful.
He hadn’t hated Erin because she was difficult.
He hated her because she was an obstacle.
Near the rear of the storage unit, investigators found a locked steel box.
Inside were twelve prepaid phones.
One belonged to the number that had photographed me at the hospital.
Another contained messages with Dr. Ames.
A third contained conversations between Dominic and someone saved only as M.
The messages were short.
She trusts you.
Keep documenting paranoia.
We need medical support before the petition.
And then:
If the kitchen doesn’t break her, move the timeline.
Chloe read it twice.
“The kitchen.”
My injured hand throbbed.
“They knew.”
The burner hadn’t been a spontaneous act of rage.
Someone had expected something to happen that night.
My phone rang.
It was an officer searching the Bennett property.
They had found Arthur’s car abandoned near the train station.
The keys were still inside.
His wallet was on the passenger seat.
His phone had been smashed.
Arthur Bennett had disappeared.
May you like
And on the dashboard, written on the back of a restaurant receipt, were four words.
SHE KNOWS I TALKED.
