Chapter 4
Mark finally told me the part he had been hiding.
Rachel met Malcolm almost two years earlier.
Not through Mark.
Through our father.
My father, Charles Morgan, had owned several bars and restaurants around Baltimore before retiring.
Malcolm had invested in one of them years ago.
The partnership ended badly.
According to Mark, Rachel discovered Malcolm kept records of wealthy people who owed him money.
Not ordinary debt.
Gambling debt.
Affairs.
Illegal business deals.
Things people paid to keep hidden.
Rachel saw opportunity.
“She started helping him?”
I asked.
Mark nodded.
“She had access to people.”
“How?”
“Insurance clients.”
Rachel worked in financial planning.
She knew incomes.
Assets.
Debts.
Beneficiaries.
Everything.
“She would identify people under pressure,” Mark said. “Malcolm would approach them.”
“And extort them?”
“Sometimes.”
“What do you mean sometimes?”
“Sometimes they loaned money first.”
“So people became trapped.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to be sick.
“And you?”
“I was already gambling.”
“Rachel introduced you.”
He nodded.
“To Malcolm?”
“Yes.”
“Your mistress introduced you to the man collecting your gambling debt.”
“It started before the affair.”
“How convenient.”
Mark didn’t argue.
He looked exhausted.
“I borrowed twenty thousand.”
“How did that become one hundred and eighty?”
“Interest. More losses.”
“You kept gambling?”
“I thought I could win it back.”
The oldest lie in gambling.
“What did Rachel want?”
“At first, repayment.”
“And later?”
“Us.”
The word disgusted me.
“She said if I left you, she would make Malcolm erase my debt.”
“Could she?”
“I thought so.”
“But you refused.”
“I kept delaying.”
“Because you suddenly developed morals?”
“Because…”
He hesitated.
“Because I realized Rachel was dangerous.”
I folded my arms.
“That realization came after you slept with her for six months?”
He looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“She started talking about your money.”
“My inheritance.”
“Yes.”
“She wanted you out of the way?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what?”
“She said divorce would be messy. She said if something happened that made you unstable, I could get control of the accounts.”
My blood went cold.
“What kind of something?”
“She never said directly.”
I stared.
“Mark.”
“She talked about Emma.”
My heart stopped.
“What about her?”
“She said losing a child destroys marriages.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Mark immediately added:
“I told her she was sick.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before the party.”
“And you still let her into our home.”
His face broke.
“I didn’t think she meant it.”
I walked away.
He followed.
“Claire.”
“Don’t.”
“I should’ve told you.”
“You should’ve protected our daughter.”
“I know.”
“No, Mark. You knew your girlfriend was talking about something happening to Emma. You knew she had access to our finances. You knew she worked with a criminal. You knew she had threatened you.”
He stared at the floor.
“And you said nothing.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Prison.”
I stopped.
“Why prison?”
His answer took too long.
Then I understood.
“The drugs.”
Mark nodded.
“Rachel knew.”
“She knew you were stealing sedatives.”
“Yes.”
“She suggested it?”
“At first.”
My stomach turned.
“She said hospital drugs were valuable. Malcolm had buyers.”
“So you sold them.”
“A few times.”
“How many?”
“Seven.”
“You told me Malcolm bought them.”
“He bought some.”
“What about the others?”
“I don’t know where they went.”
“You handed surgical sedatives to criminals and didn’t ask?”
“I needed money.”
Every sentence made him smaller in my eyes.
Then Detective Harris entered.
“We need to speak with both of you.”
He placed another evidence bag on the table.
Inside was a small silver key.
“Recognize this?”
Mark shook his head.
I did.
“It’s Rachel’s storage key.”
Harris nodded.
“We found the matching unit.”
My pulse quickened.
“What was inside?”
“Medical supplies.”
Mark closed his eyes.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Harris looked at him.
“Some items trace back to your hospital system.”
Mark sat.
He looked like his legs had failed.
“But that isn’t all.”
Harris showed us photographs.
Boxes.
Controlled substances.
Prescription pads.
Financial files.
Burner phones.
Then a small refrigerator.
Inside were several vials matching the sedative found in Emma.
I gripped the table.
“You can arrest her now.”
“We can arrest her for possession and other charges.”
“What about attempted murder?”
“We still need to prove who put it in Emma’s cup.”
“Her drugs. Her threats. Her insurance policy.”
“The policy application came from an online account registered to Mark.”
I stared at him.
He looked horrified.
“I didn’t do it.”
Harris continued.
“The login originated from your home.”
My heart sank.
“Rachel was at our house often.”
“Yes.”
“But so was Mark.”
“Yes.”
Nothing was simple.
Then Harris handed me another photograph.
A notebook.
Rachel’s handwriting.
Dates.
Dollar amounts.
Initials.
Beside Mark’s name was a large number.
$180,000.
Below it:
Insurance route if M fails.
My skin prickled.
“What does that mean?”
“We’re analyzing it.”
Mark whispered:
“M means me.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“There are other notes. She always called me M.”
Harris flipped the page.
Another entry.
E – 500K.
Party = opportunity.
My knees weakened.
E.
Emma.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
Party equals opportunity.
I covered my mouth.
Harris spoke carefully.
“There’s one complication.”
“What?”
“This notebook was found in a unit rented under Rachel’s name.”
“That isn’t a complication.”
“Rachel claims Mark placed everything there.”
Mark jumped up.
“She’s lying!”
“She says you had the key.”
“I didn’t.”
“You were seen there.”
Silence.
I turned.
“You went to the storage unit?”
Mark looked at me.
“Once.”
“When?”
“Two days before Emma’s birthday.”
“Why?”
“Rachel called.”
“What did she want?”
“She told me she was returning everything connected to the drugs.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“And you believed her.”
“She threatened to expose me if I didn’t come.”
Harris leaned forward.
“What happened inside?”
Mark hesitated.
Then said:
“We fought.”
“About?”
“Emma.”
My heart clenched.
“What did Rachel say?”
Mark looked directly at me.
“She said the birthday party would solve everything.”
I felt the room narrow.
“What did you think that meant?”
“I asked.”
“And?”
“She said, ‘After Saturday, Claire will never care about money again.’”
I stopped breathing.
That was enough for me.
But Harris remained controlled.
“Did she specifically say she intended to harm Emma?”
“No.”
“Did you notify police?”
“No.”
“Your wife?”
“No.”
“Then you left your daughter alone in a house with Rachel two days later.”
Mark covered his face.
For the first time, I didn’t feel rage.
I felt clarity.
Even if Mark had not poisoned Emma, his cowardice had helped create the opportunity.
He had seen danger.
May you like
He had protected himself.
And my daughter had paid the price.
