Chapter 16 - The Medication Box
We did not touch the storage unit.
Detective Reed obtained authorization and investigators searched it.
Inside were financial records, forged identity documents, insurance paperwork, and several boxes containing prescription bottles.
Some belonged to Eleanor Wallace.
Some belonged to Mom.
Mom stared at the photographs when Reed showed them to us.
“I thought I lost those.”
“Lost what?” I asked.
“My blood-pressure tablets.”
“How often?”
“Several times.”
I felt sick.
Melissa had repeatedly told Mom she was forgetful.
But the pills had been removed and hidden.
Reed asked a toxicology specialist to review the medications.
The result was unsettling but not conclusive.
Several notes appeared to document medication doses.
One phrase repeated.
“Extra PM.”
Mom frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Reed looked at me.
“We're investigating.”
I knew better than to jump to conclusions.
But as an ICU nurse, I also knew how dangerous prescription misuse could become.
Especially for an older adult.
Derek sat across the room.
He looked destroyed.
“She gave Mom her pills.”
I turned toward him.
“What?”
He rubbed his face.
“Sometimes Melissa brought Mom medication at night.”
“Did you see what it was?”
“No.”
“Why didn't you ask?”
“I thought it was hers.”
I stepped toward him.
“You thought everything.”
“You thought Mom signed documents.”
“You thought I stopped calling.”
“You thought Melissa handled the money.”
“You thought the medicine was correct.”
“When were you ever going to actually look?”
He didn't defend himself.
“I don't know.”
Mom quietly said his name.
He started crying.
“I am sorry, Mom.”
This time she didn't reach for him.
That mattered.
Two days later, Melissa was formally charged with multiple financial crimes.
The investigation involving Eleanor remained open.
Her attorney insisted every transaction had legitimate explanations.
Then one of Melissa's dinner guests contacted me.
Vanessa.
“I need to talk to you.”
We met at a restaurant.
She looked embarrassed.
“I believed everything Melissa said.”
“What did she say?”
“That you abandoned your mother.”
I almost laughed.
Vanessa continued.
“She said you refused to help financially.”
“What else?”
“She said your mother had dementia.”
My stomach tightened.
“She doesn't.”
“I know that now.”
Vanessa placed her phone on the table.
“There was something else.”
She opened an old group chat.
Messages from Melissa appeared.
Most were cruel jokes about Mom.
Then I saw a photograph.
Mom was cleaning the patio.
Melissa had captioned it.
FREE HOUSEKEEPING IS THE BEST HOUSEKEEPING.
My hands curled into fists.
Vanessa scrolled.
Another message appeared.
OLD LADY'S FINALLY USEFUL FOR SOMETHING.
Then one from three months earlier.
Once the house closes, we're upgrading everything.
Including the resident grandma.
I looked at Vanessa.
“Send me all of it.”
“I already sent copies to Detective Reed.”
Then she showed me one final message.
It had been posted six months earlier.
Melissa wrote.
The old woman keeps waking up too early.
May you like
Need to fix her nighttime routine.
The timestamp was two days before Mom's first unexplained fall.
