Chapter 3 - THE BLUE PILL BOTTLE
Tomorrow morning.
I stared at the crumpled receipt, the ticking of the silver pocket watch echoing in the dead silence of the boathouse. They weren't waiting for me to pass away. They weren't even waiting for the end of the summer. At dawn, heavy machinery was going to roll through my front gates and tear down the only life I had left.
But the pocket watch... how did Vanessa or Daniel get Thomas’s watch? It had gone into the ground with him. Unless... the chilling realization washed over me. The local funeral director, a man named Miller, was Daniel’s poker buddy. They had stolen my husband’s heirloom before they closed the casket.
A sharp crunch of gravel outside the boathouse snapped me back to reality.
Footsteps. Two sets. Moving fast down the wooden ramp toward the dock.
I instantly clicked off the brass desk lamp, plunging the office into darkness. I pressed my back against the glass partition, holding my breath.
"I don't care what she said at the grill, Marcus," Vanessa’s voice drifted through the thin walls, sharp and agitated. "The old woman is harmless. She's delusional."
"She didn't sound delusional, Vanessa," a deep, smooth voice replied. This must be the lead investor, the man in the tailored suit I had seen Daniel fawning over all afternoon. "She sounded like a woman who knows her name is on the deed. If this property isn't legally cleared by Monday, my capital backing vanishes. I am not getting tied up in a messy elder-abuse lawsuit."
"It's handled," Vanessa snapped. "The medical transport van is arriving at five in the morning, an hour before the demolition crew. The facility in upstate New York already has her room prepared."
I pressed my hand hard over my mouth to stifle a gasp.
Answer One, Open Two.
They were committing me to a psychiatric facility to nullify my legal standing. But how? You couldn't just lock away a sane woman without a medical evaluation.
"Do you have the physician's sign-off?" Marcus demanded, echoing my exact thought.
"Signed and notarized yesterday," Vanessa said smoothly. "Dr. Aris is a very close friend. He documented her 'severe cognitive decline' and violent outbursts. By the time anyone questions it, the house will be rubble, the LLC will own the dirt, and Daniel will have the conservatorship."
Marcus grunted, seemingly satisfied. "Make sure she doesn't cause a scene when the van arrives."
"She won't," Vanessa laughed softly, a sound that made my skin crawl. "She won't even be awake."
The footsteps retreated back up the gravel path toward the music and the laughter.
I stood frozen in the dark, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Vanessa hadn't just forged a signature. She had bribed my primary care physician. She was going to drug me, kidnap me, and steal my home.
I needed to get to my car. I needed to drive to the police station right now.
I turned toward the boathouse door, but something tugged hard on the hem of my navy coat.
I leaped back, a scream dying in my throat as I looked down.
Standing in the shadows, barely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the high windows, was my six-year-old grandson, Leo. He was wearing his little red polo shirt, but his face was pale and stained with tears.
"Leo?" I whispered, dropping to my knees. "Sweetheart, what are you doing down here in the dark? Why aren't you with the other kids?"
He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He didn't answer my question. Instead, he reached into his tiny jeans pocket and pulled out his clenched fist.
He uncurled his fingers.
Sitting in the palm of his small, shaking hand was a transparent orange prescription pill bottle. It was empty, save for a fine white powder dusting the bottom.
"Mommy told me to stay in the guesthouse," Leo whispered, his voice trembling. "But I got thirsty. I went to the kitchen. Mommy was taking pills out of this bottle and crushing them with a spoon."
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He looked up at me, his large brown eyes filled with a terror no child should ever know.
"She put the powder in your pitcher of iced tea, Grandma," Leo sobbed quietly. "She said it was a secret recipe. But she looked angry. I didn't want you to drink it."
