Chapter 6 - UNEARTHING THE PAST
The conference room at the local police precinct smelled of stale coffee and ozone. Peter sat across from Detective Ramirez and a grizzled, silver-haired homicide detective named Miller. Spread out on the table between them were the coroner’s initial reports from Aaron Calder’s death three years prior.
“The original autopsy ruled it myocardial infarction. A massive heart attack,” Detective Miller said, tapping a pen against the file. “No toxicology screening was run because, frankly, there was no reason to suspect foul play at the time. Your brother had a minor heart murmur recorded in his medical files from childhood. It seemed like a tragic, albeit natural, death.”
“It wasn’t natural,” Peter insisted, leaning forward, placing his hands flat on the table. “Drew saw her crush a pill into his coffee. He saw her watch him die for five minutes before she called 911.”
Ramirez sighed, rubbing her temples. “Peter, I believe you. I believe the boy. But taking the eyewitness testimony of a deeply traumatized six-year-old—who was three at the time of the event—to a judge to get an exhumation order… it’s a monumental legal hurdle. Especially with Julian Vance defending her. He’ll argue the child’s memory is corrupted by the recent abuse.”
“Then find the motive,” Peter demanded. “People don't just poison their husbands for fun. Follow the money.”
Miller exchanged a look with Ramirez, then opened a secondary folder. “We already started. When you called me at 4 AM, I had a forensic accountant pull Reena’s financials. Your sister-in-law is a very wealthy woman, Mr. Calder. But she wasn't always. Her family has prestige, but their actual liquid assets were tied up in terrible investments. Reena was essentially broke when she married Aaron.”
Miller pulled out a stack of financial documents, sliding them across the table. “Four months before Aaron died, Reena took out three separate, massive life insurance policies on him. Totaling just over 4.5 million dollars. She forged his signature on two of them. We just confirmed it with a handwriting expert an hour ago. The ink on the ‘Aaron Calder’ signature matches a pen found in her home office.”
Peter stared at the staggering numbers on the paper. 4.5 million dollars. That was what his brother’s life was worth to that monster. She had killed Aaron, collected the millions, and then locked Aaron’s children in a basement to rot because they were inconvenient reminders of her crime.
“Is that enough for a judge?” Peter asked, his voice eerily calm.
“Forged life insurance policies right before a sudden death?” Miller smiled grimly. “Yeah. That’s enough. The DA is filing an emergency motion for exhumation as we speak. We’ll pull your brother up, run a full, deep-tissue toxicology panel, and test his hair follicles. If she poisoned him with something heavy, like arsenic or digitalis, the residue will still be in his marrow and hair. We’ll have her dead to rights for first-degree murder.”
“How long will it take?”
“The exhumation happens tonight. The tox results will be rushed, but it still takes forty-eight hours,” Ramirez said. “Here is the problem, Peter. Reena’s arraignment for the child abuse charges is this afternoon. Julian Vance has already filed a massive bail package. They are offering two million dollars in cash to get her out pending trial. The judge is notoriously lenient on wealthy, first-time, female offenders who claim psychological distress.”
Peter’s stomach plummeted. “You’re telling me she could walk out of here today?”
“She’ll have an ankle monitor. She’ll have to surrender her passport,” Ramirez said quickly, trying to placate him. “But yes. Until the murder indictment comes down, she is only facing the abuse charges. And bail is a constitutional right. We are fighting it, but Vance is good.”
“If she gets out, she’ll run,” Peter said, standing up, knocking his chair back. “Or worse, she’ll come after the kids. She knows Drew is a liability now. If she suspects he remembered the poison…”
“We will have squad cars stationed at your house, Peter,” Ramirez promised. “And at the hospital. She won't get within a mile of those kids.”
Peter didn't believe her. The police hadn't protected Aaron. They hadn't protected Drew and Lily for eight months. The system was flawed, bound by red tape and legal maneuvers that high-priced lawyers exploited.
“I need to get back to the hospital,” Peter said, turning toward the door. “I’m taking the kids home tomorrow. The doctors said they are stable enough for outpatient recovery. I want them out of the public eye. I want them behind my locked doors.”
“Are you sure that’s wise, Peter?” Miller asked. “The hospital has security.”
“The hospital is a public building with fifty exits,” Peter countered. “My house is a fortress. And I know every inch of it.”
He left the precinct, the afternoon sun feeling entirely too bright and cheerful for the dark reality he was navigating. The media had already caught wind of the story. As Peter drove back to the hospital, he heard a local radio anchor recounting the harrowing tale of the "Hero Boy" who dragged his sister seven blocks to escape a house of horrors.
It was everywhere. Reena Vance’s face was plastered across the news networks, a stark contrast between her polished, wealthy socialite photos and the grim reality of what she had done.
Peter gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. The storm was coming. Reena was a cornered animal, and cornered animals were the most dangerous.
When he reached the hospital, the discharge paperwork was already being finalized. Drew was sitting up in a wheelchair, his massive cast resting on the elevated leg rest, holding a small stuffed bear a nurse had given him. Lily was in Peter’s arms, holding on to his neck with surprising strength for a child who had nearly starved to death.
“We’re going home, guys,” Peter whispered into Lily’s hair, looking down at Drew. “To my house. The safest place in the world.”
But as they walked out the sliding glass doors toward his truck, Peter’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Ramirez.
May you like
Judge granted bail. She’s out. Keep your doors locked. Tox report due tomorrow night.
Peter shoved the phone in his pocket, his jaw setting into a hard, unforgiving line. The monster was loose. But this time, she wasn't facing a helpless child. She was facing Peter. And he was ready.
