Chapter 6 - The Paper Trail
Brenda backed against the cabinets, her hand clutching her chest. “Carol! You... you broke in here! This is private property!”
“Actually, it’s my daughter’s house,” I said, stepping between Brenda and the front doorway. “And I’m holding the keys. What’s in the passports, Brenda?”
“Get out before I call the police!”
“Please do,” I said, pointing toward the open front door where rain was blowing onto the rug. “Officer Campbell is already running the Coumadin lot number. Call him. Tell him you’re cleaning out your son’s escape funds while his wife bleeds out in ICU.”
Brenda’s eyes darted toward the passports on the floor.
I kicked one over with the toe of my shoe.
It was Ryan’s photo, but the name printed beside his face read *Brian Miller*. The second passport had Brenda’s picture, under the name *Barbara Miller*.
The third passport made my stomach drop into a bottomless pit.
It was a baby passport. Issued three weeks ago. Blank name, but the photo was a placeholder stock image used for expedited infant travel documents.
“You weren't just planning for Emily to die,” I whispered, horror rising in my throat. “You were planning to take Chloe and disappear.”
Brenda’s expression shifted. The panic vanished, replaced by the cold, venomous superiority she had hidden behind pearl necklaces and country club brunches for half a decade.
“Emily was never good enough for him,” Brenda spat, straightening her poncho. “She dragged him down. A pathetic little schoolteacher who counted pennies and whined about budgets. Ryan had visions. Real business opportunities. And she was a dead weight around his neck.”
“He poisoned her, Brenda! For months!”
“He gave her what was necessary to secure our future!” Brenda snarled, stepping forward, her eyes wild. “The insurance company doesn't pay out if there's foul play suspected, but a childbirth hemorrhage? That happens every day! Millions of dollars, Carol. Clear and free. We were going to raise that baby properly in Belize. Without your middle-class interference!”
“Where is Ryan?” I demanded, advancing on her. “What did you mean on the phone? What did he do at Saint Jude’s?”
Brenda smiled a thin, cruel smile. “Ryan is smarter than you think. You think you cornered him at the hospital? He didn't run away, Carol. He went on the offense.”
My phone rang. The screen displayed Dr. Hale’s direct hospital extension.
I answered and hit speakerphone. “Dr. Hale?”
“Mrs. Bennett, where are you?” Hale’s voice was strained, breathless. “There’s an emergency. An administrative court order just came down through Saint Jude’s legal team. A judge signed an emergency conservatorship order thirty minutes ago based on an affidavit alleging Emily has Munchausen syndrome and poisoned herself to harm the baby.”
“What?!”
May you like
“A medical transport team is here right now to take Emily and the baby to Saint Jude’s under Ryan’s custody order,” Hale said. “And Ryan is standing right behind them with two armed county deputies.”
***
