Chapter 2 - THE MAN IN THE BASEMENT
Elmer moved through the dark living room without turning on a light.
He wore sweatpants, an Ohio State hoodie, and the house slippers Lydia kept for him beneath the basement stairs. He did not look like a man arriving after a long drive from Indianapolis. He looked like a man who had been sleeping downstairs.
He crossed to the side table where Lydia had left a small velvet jewelry box after church. He opened it, removed the gold bracelet, and slipped it into his pocket.
Then he heard something and froze.
Heather entered from the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
Elmer put one finger to his lips.
Heather stared at the open jewelry box. “Are you insane? Mom will know.”
“I need it by morning.”
“You said the betting app gave you another week.”
“I lied.”
My stomach turned.
Heather paced in a tight circle. “You told Joanna the Indianapolis contract was extended.”
“She believes what I tell her.”
“Where have you been staying?”
Elmer glanced toward the basement door. “Here when Joanna travels. Cheap motels when she’s home.”
I covered my mouth before the sound inside me could wake Louisa.
Elmer had been fired four months earlier.
He had lied every Monday morning, kissed Louisa goodbye, loaded a suitcase into his truck, and pretended to leave for work. While I paid groceries, daycare, and our contribution to his parents’ mortgage, he had been gambling and hiding in their basement.
On the recording, Heather lowered her voice. “What happens when Mom sees the bracelet is gone?”
Elmer shrugged. “Louisa was in her room today.”
Heather stared at him. “She was looking for her rabbit.”
“Mom already thinks Joanna’s raising her to be entitled.”
“You’re going to blame a toddler?”
“I’m not going to blame anybody. Mom will decide what she believes.”
A third voice came from outside the camera’s view.
“No,” Lydia said. “You will put that box back exactly where it was.”
She stepped into frame wearing a robe.
Elmer’s face changed. “Mom, I can explain.”
“You promised the last money was the end of it.”
“I can win it back.”
“You always say that.”
Lydia held out her hand. For one hopeful second, I thought she was demanding the bracelet.
Instead, she said, “Give me the pawn ticket when you’re done. If Joanna checks the accounts, she cannot see where the money came from.”
Heather whispered, “What about Louisa?”
Lydia looked toward the staircase.
“We’ll say she took it. Joanna is leaving for Cincinnati in the morning. By the time she comes back, the child will have confessed.”
The clip ended three minutes later.
I sat motionless on the hotel bed.
The next recording began the following afternoon. Lydia stood in the living room holding Louisa’s stuffed bunny. Louisa reached for it, crying.
“Tell me where you put my bracelet,” Lydia demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“Thieves lose things they love.”
Heather sat on the couch, watching.
Louisa kept saying she wanted her mommy. Lydia told her I would be ashamed of her. When Louisa still refused to confess, Lydia dragged a dining chair into the kitchen.
The haircut happened beyond the camera’s view.
I did not see it.
I heard my daughter screaming.
I heard Heather say, “Mom, that’s enough.”
I heard Lydia answer, “She needs to look guilty when Joanna comes home. Otherwise Joanna will ask questions.”
I stopped the video.
For several seconds, I could hear nothing except the hotel heater and Louisa’s breathing.
Then a message appeared from an unknown number.
It was Elmer.
You blocked me. We need to discuss this like adults.
Another message followed.
Dad says you threatened him. If you try to keep Louisa from me, I’ll file for emergency custody.
I looked at my sleeping daughter.
Her eyelashes were still wet.
I saved the recordings to three separate places, emailed them to myself, and sent copies to my friend Natalie, an assistant prosecutor in Franklin County.
Then I called the police.
An officer met me at the hotel shortly after midnight. I showed him the video of Elmer stealing the bracelet, the audio of Lydia planning to accuse Louisa, and photographs of my shoulder where Walter had grabbed and shoved me.
The officer’s face tightened as he watched.
“Mrs. Mercer, has your daughter been medically examined?”
“Not yet.”
“Take her to Nationwide Children’s tonight. Tell them exactly what happened. We need documentation, and she needs to be checked for cold exposure.”
I woke Louisa carefully and carried her to the car.
As I buckled her into the child seat, she touched the scarf covering her head.
“Will my hair come back?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Will Grandma take it again?”
May you like
I leaned close enough that our foreheads touched.
“No,” I said. “Grandma will never touch you again.”
