Chapter 6
I showed the texts to Detective Collins.
She read them once.
Then again.
“Before tonight,” she said. “That sounds like a deadline.”
Sarah nodded.
“Development filings close tomorrow.”
“For what?”
Sarah turned her laptop.
A confidential zoning packet appeared.
A private medical resort.
Luxury rehab.
Closed gates.
Helipad.
Built around my lake house.
Thomas leaned closer.
“Medical resort?”
Sarah clicked another file.
Investors.
Doctors.
Politicians.
And there it was.
Dr. Martin Vale.
My father’s death certificate doctor.
My spine went cold for reasons that had nothing to do with injury.
“He is part of it.”
Detective Collins said, “We need records from your father’s final care.”
Sarah looked at me.
“Gen, where are his personal papers?”
“The lake house.”
Thomas and I looked at each other.
Dad kept everything there.
Tax records.
Letters.
Old contracts.
Mom’s recipe cards.
The history of our family in boxes and cabinets.
Detective Collins sent officers.
They arrived too late.
The lake house was burning.
Thomas showed me the live video on his phone.
Flames pouring from the windows.
Smoke rising over the water.
My father’s porch collapsing.
I could not move.
I could not run.
I could not even stand while another piece of my family burned.
I made no sound.
That frightened Thomas more than if I had screamed.
Sarah took my hand.
“We will find what survived.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Eleanor’s voice was soft.
“You should have signed.”
My blood became ice.
“You burned my father’s house.”
“Old wood burns easily.”
Detective Collins gestured for me to keep her talking.
“You killed him too, didn’t you?”
Eleanor laughed.
“Careful, dear. Grief makes women sound unstable.”
Hazel cried in Thomas’s arms.
Eleanor paused.
May you like
“Enjoy the baby while you can.”
The call ended.
