Chapter 2 - THE THING HE HAD PREPARED
Daniel never touched Grant.
That mattered later.
Grant expected him to.
My brother had spent fourteen years as a detective, and Grant had spent most of our marriage accusing Daniel of waiting for an excuse to put him in handcuffs.
Instead, Daniel backed toward me and said, “Rachel, come here.”
Grant took one step toward the front door.
Daniel blocked his path without raising his hands.
“Don’t make this worse.”
“You broke into my house.”
“It’s Rachel’s house.”
“Our house.”
The distinction had been irritating Grant for years.
I had purchased the three-bedroom brick colonial before we married, when I was twenty-eight and still working full-time as an elementary school counselor. Grant moved in after our wedding. His name had never been added to the deed.
At first, he said he respected that.
Lately, he called it proof I never really trusted him.
Daniel had entered through the garage using the emergency keypad code I had given him that morning.
He had climbed through the attic because he heard Grant downstairs before he could reach the living room safely.
A patrol unit arrived seven minutes later.
Daniel stepped aside immediately.
He knew better than to involve himself in the investigation.
At Riverside Methodist, a nurse placed monitors across my stomach while another photographed the bruising on my wrists.
For twenty-three minutes, nobody said whether my baby was all right.
Then the fetal heart rate settled into a steady rhythm.
I cried so hard I had to turn my face toward the wall.
The attending physician said they wanted to monitor me overnight.
Daniel sat beside the window, elbows on his knees.
“Why was the baby moving less?”
“I don’t know.”
“Had that happened before?”
“Once.”
“What did Grant do?”
I hesitated.
Daniel noticed.
“Rachel.”
“He told me I was obsessing.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I stared at the blanket.
Three weeks earlier, when I had complained that the baby hadn’t moved after dinner, Grant had made me drink orange juice and lie down.
He’d been gentle that night.
Almost too gentle.
He had counted kicks with his hand on my stomach.
Then he had said something I hadn’t thought about until now.
See? You don’t need to run to the hospital every time you get scared.
Daniel looked toward the door.
“Tell the detective that.”
“I will.”
“And the hook?”
“He said it was for a hanging chair.”
Daniel’s jaw shifted.
“There was no chair.”
“No.”
“Rachel, he added blocking between two ceiling joists. That’s not something you do casually.”
My throat tightened.
“Maybe he wanted it secure.”
“For a nursery chair in the living room?”
I had no answer.
Near midnight, an officer returned.
Grant had been taken into custody after the responding officers interviewed us separately and documented the scene.
The criminal case would be handled without Daniel.
The officer placed my keys and wallet on the hospital tray.
Then he handed me something else.
A folded notice from my bank.
It had been found under unopened mail in Grant’s desk.
I recognized the bank logo.
I did not recognize the amount.
PAST DUE.
My mortgage payment had bounced.
I looked at the balance on the attached account summary.
Then I looked again.
May you like
Sixty-two thousand dollars had been drawn from a home-equity line.
I had never opened a home-equity line.
