Chapter 2 - The Locked Door

Within an hour, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Detective Miller’s unmarked cruiser, pulling into my own driveway.

The front lawn was bathed in the flashing red and blue lights of three police cruisers. The neighborhood was wide awake, neighbors standing on their porches in bathrobes, watching the spectacle.

“Stay in the car, Ethan,” Miller ordered as he opened his door. “Do not say a word to them.”

I nodded numbly, watching through the windshield as Miller walked up to my front porch.

My mother was standing in the doorway, playing the part of the distraught grandmother perfectly. She was dabbing her dry eyes with a tissue, leaning heavily on Courtney for support.

“Oh, Detective, thank God you found him,” my mother cried out, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “My poor son. He just snapped. The pressure of the baby, that awful wife of his… he lost his mind.”

Courtney chimed in, nodding vigorously. “We tried to stop him, but he’s so strong. He forced us to stay here and watch the house. We were hostages!”

Detective Miller didn't look sympathetic. He looked disgusted.

“Mrs. Parker, did your son tie his wife up with black heavy-duty zip-ties?” Miller asked, his tone deceptively conversational.

My mother didn't miss a beat. “Yes! Yes, he did. He kept them in his toolbox in the garage.”

“Interesting,” Miller said. “Because we just searched your vehicle, Mrs. Parker. We found a receipt from a hardware store three miles from here. Dated Tuesday. The day after your son flew to Denver. You bought a box of black heavy-duty zip-ties, a roll of duct tape, and a pair of heavy rubber gloves.”

My mother’s fake tears instantly vanished. The color drained from her face.

“I… I bought those for gardening,” she stammered, taking a step back into the house.

“You bought duct tape and zip-ties for gardening?” Miller asked dryly. “We also checked your daughter’s cell phone data. Courtney sent a text message to her boyfriend yesterday that read, and I quote: ‘Mom is keeping the psycho locked in the dark until she signs the divorce papers and gives us custody. We’re moving in permanently.’”

Courtney shrieked, dropping her mother’s arm. “You searched my phone?! You can't do that without a warrant!”

“Actually, we can, when there is probable cause of an ongoing kidnapping and attempted murder,” Miller barked, stepping into the house and forcing them backward.

“Attempted murder?!” my mother gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. “I didn't try to kill her! I just wanted her gone! She didn't deserve Ethan! She didn't deserve my grandson! She was trying to take my family away from me!”

Her mask had completely shattered. The sweet, caring grandmother act was gone, replaced by the venomous, obsessive monster she truly was.

“She wouldn't sign the papers!” my mother screamed, her face twisting in rage as two officers moved in behind Miller. “I withheld the water. I withheld the pills. I told her if she just signed the house over to me and gave me the baby, I’d let her go! But she’s stubborn! Just like her trashy family!”

I couldn't stay in the car anymore.

I threw the door open and marched across the lawn.

My mother saw me and her eyes lit up with a sick, desperate hope.

“Ethan! Tell them! Tell them you wanted this! Tell them I did this for us!” she begged, reaching her hands out toward me.

I stood at the bottom of the porch steps and looked at the woman who had given me life. I felt absolutely nothing for her. No love. No pity. Only a cold, absolute hatred.

“You are dead to me,” I said, my voice steady and loud enough to echo down the street. “You are not my mother. You are nothing.”