Chapter 4 - THE ONE-WAY TICKET
I stared at the empty pill bottle in Leo’s trembling hand, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck.
I took the bottle from him, holding it up to the faint moonlight slanting through the boathouse window. The label was partially torn, but I could clearly read the bold black text.
Zolpidem Tartrate. 10mg.
Heavy sedatives. Enough of those crushed into my iced tea would have knocked me unconscious for twenty-four hours. Or, at my age, potentially stopped my heart entirely.
My own daughter-in-law had attempted to poison me in my own kitchen.
"You saved my life, my brave boy," I whispered fiercely, pulling Leo into my arms. I pressed his small, warm head against my shoulder. He buried his face in my coat, clinging to me as if I were the only solid thing left in the world. And tonight, I probably was.
Answer One, Open Two.
I knew how Vanessa planned to keep me quiet for the transport van. But what about Daniel? Was my son complicit in attempted murder, or was he merely a pawn in Vanessa's sociopathic game of real estate chess?
I gently pulled back and looked Leo in the eyes. "Leo, did Daddy see Mommy crushing the pills?"
Leo shook his head vigorously. "Daddy wasn't there. Daddy was in his bedroom. He was crying."
"Crying?" Daniel never cried. Not even at his father's funeral.
"He was packing a black bag," Leo explained, his little voice barely a whisper. "He told me to go play. But he dropped this on the floor. When he left the room, I picked it up."
Leo reached into his other pocket and pulled out a thick, folded piece of glossy paper.
I took it from him and unfolded it.
It was a first-class boarding pass. Printed from our home office computer. The departure was out of O'Hare International Airport tomorrow at 9:00 AM. The destination was San José, Costa Rica.
The name on the ticket was Daniel Vance.
Just Daniel. There was no ticket for Vanessa. And there was no ticket for Leo.
A profound, sickening Reversal washed over me, displacing the shock with pure, maternal rage.
Daniel wasn't just abandoning me to a psychiatric ward and bulldozing his childhood home to pay off Vanessa’s investors. He was planning to double-cross his own wife. He was going to take the millions from the fraudulent land sale, flee the country to a non-extradition nation, and leave his vicious wife holding the bag.
But worst of all—he was abandoning his six-year-old son.
"Grandma?" Leo whimpered, shivering in the cool dampness of the boathouse. "Are we going to be okay? I don't want Mommy to be mad at me."
"Your mother is never going to hurt you again," I said, my voice hardening into steel. I was done being the polite, grieving widow. I was a mother, and I was a grandmother, and I was going to burn Vanessa's world to the ground.
"We need to go to the guesthouse, Leo," I said, taking his hand. "We need to get some of your clothes."
We slipped out the back of the boathouse, keeping to the tree line. The fireworks had stopped, but the party was still raging on the front lawn. We moved like shadows through the pines until we reached the back porch of the guesthouse where Daniel and Vanessa lived.
I used the spare key I kept hidden under a loose brick. The house was dark and quiet.
I led Leo to his small bedroom. "Pack your favorite toys in your backpack, sweetie. Quickly and quietly."
While he packed, I walked down the hall to the master bedroom. I needed proof of the fraudulent doctor’s evaluation. I needed everything.
I opened Vanessa's walk-in closet. On the floor sat two massive, hard-shell Louis Vuitton suitcases. They were fully packed. I unzipped the top one. Inside were stacks of designer clothes, expensive jewelry, and a thick manila envelope.
I opened the envelope. Inside were passports. But not just hers.
There was a passport for a man named Julian Hayes. Attached to it was a private jet itinerary for tomorrow at noon, heading to Zurich, Switzerland.
Vanessa was double-crossing Daniel, too. She was planning to take the money and flee with another man.
I dug deeper into the suitcase, pushing aside a stack of silk blouses. My fingers brushed against something hard and metallic wrapped in a velvet cloth.
I pulled it out and unwrapped it.
It was a heavy, ornate silver bracelet. But it wasn't women's jewelry. It was a thick, men's identity bracelet.
May you like
I turned it over in my hand, catching the dim hallway light. Engraved deeply into the back of the silver plate were five words that made my heart stop beating.
To Thomas. Forever Yours, V.
