Chapter 6 - Seventy-Two TimesThere were seventy-two remote logins to the nursery camera.
He was six years older than Ryan.
Smart.
Charming.
Unpredictable.
Three years earlier, Eric borrowed $18,000 from us to start a construction business.
We never saw the money again.
After a screaming argument between the brothers, Eric supposedly moved to Texas.
Linda blamed me.
She said I had “turned brothers against each other” because I suggested maybe a thirty-six-year-old man should repay his debts.
Now Detective Mendoza was telling us Eric had purchased the burner phone twelve miles from our house.
Six weeks earlier.
Ryan stared at the convenience-store image.
“I haven’t seen him.”
Mendoza said nothing.
“I swear.”
“Your mother has?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mr. Harper.”
“I don’t know!”
I watched him carefully.
For once, I believed him.
Ryan looked genuinely stunned.
Mendoza turned toward me.
“Do you own the house?”
“Jointly.”
“Any significant life insurance?”
The question hit strangely.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
I looked at Ryan.
He already knew.
“One million through my military coverage.”
“And beneficiary?”
“Ryan.”
Mendoza’s expression didn’t change.
But mine did.
Ryan immediately stood.
“No.”
Nobody had accused him of anything.
He accused himself.
“No, that’s not what this is.”
Mendoza replied calmly.
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because financial arrangements are part of a complete investigation.”
Ryan stared at me.
“Megan, I didn’t—”
“I know.”
At that moment, I meant it.
Whatever his failures were, I didn’t believe Ryan wanted me dead.
But Linda?
Eric?
I no longer knew.
Three hours later, Sophie was moved out of intensive care.
I finally held her again.
She pressed her face into my uniform blouse and fell asleep.
That tiny act nearly destroyed me.
I promised her something silently.
Nobody would ever convince me again that keeping the peace was more important than listening to my instincts.
That evening, investigators searched Linda’s home.
They found evidence Eric had been living in her basement for almost four months.
Not Texas.
Six miles from us.
Four months.
Exactly as long as Sophie had been alive.
In his room, they found copies of our financial information.
Mortgage documents.
Insurance information.
Printed screenshots of my military benefits.
And a handwritten page containing three possible scenarios.
1. Megan loses custody.
2. Megan leaves Ryan.
3. Megan gets reassigned/deployed.
Under each scenario were financial calculations.
I read the document twice.
“What were they trying to do?”
Mendoza sat across from me in the hospital cafeteria.
“We’re still piecing it together.”
“Why calculate money if Linda only wanted custody?”
“That's an important question.”
Another detective joined us.
He carried a laptop.
“We recovered deleted messages from Eric’s phone.”
My stomach tightened.
“Between him and Linda?”
“Yes.”
He turned the screen toward me.
The messages began casually.
Complaints about me.
Comments about how “military princess” controlled Ryan.
Then they changed.
ERIC: If she leaves him, house gets split.
LINDA: Not if she’s unfit.
ERIC: Then Ry keeps house and insurance.
LINDA: And Sophie stays with family.
ERIC: Exactly.
I felt nauseated.
“They wanted me divorced?”
“Possibly.”
“Why?”
Mendoza leaned forward.
“Captain, did Linda ever ask Ryan for money?”
“All the time.”
“How much?”
“Thousands.”
“Recently?”
I thought.
Then remembered.
“Ryan mentioned she needed help with property taxes.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Did you agree?”
“No.”
“When?”
“About two months ago.”
Mendoza exchanged a glance with the other detective.
“What?”
“Linda’s house is already in foreclosure.”
I stared at her.
“She didn’t tell us.”
“She owes substantially more than twenty-five thousand.”
“How much?”
“Nearly two hundred thousand between the mortgage, liens, and private debt.”
Everything sharpened.
The resentment.
The custody plan.
The financial calculations.
My return to duty.
My marriage becoming unstable.
If Ryan and I divorced badly, Linda could position herself as the stable caregiver.
If she convinced a court I was dangerous or mentally unstable, she could strengthen her influence over Sophie.
And over Ryan.
Which meant access to everything he owned.
Including half our marital assets.
Still, one question remained.
“Why drug Sophie?”
Mendoza closed the laptop.
“We believe Linda expected you to find her lethargic, not critically ill.”
My stomach twisted.
“She wanted Sophie sick?”
“We’re considering that possibility.”
“Why?”
“To create evidence.”
I stared at her.
Mendoza continued carefully.
“Imagine you arrive home. Your daughter is unusually sleepy. Your mother-in-law records you panicking. Perhaps you take her to the hospital. Later, Linda claims you administered something.”
My entire body went cold.
“They were going to blame me.”
“That may have been the plan.”
I remembered the edited videos.
The fake narrative.
The camera waiting in the living room.
My return from my first day back.
Linda knew exactly when I would arrive.
“She wanted me on camera.”
“Yes.”
“But Sophie reacted worse than she expected.”
“That appears possible.”
I looked at my daughter through the cafeteria window reflection.
My baby nearly died because a grown woman was trying to manufacture evidence against me.
I felt something settle inside my chest.
Not fear.
Clarity.
“When can I take Sophie home?”
“Doctors are saying tomorrow.”
“I’m not going back to that house.”
Mendoza nodded.
“That may be wise.”
“My commander offered temporary lodging.”
“Use it.”
Then my phone rang.
It was my attorney.
I had contacted her that morning.
“Megan,” she said, “I filed the emergency protective orders.”
“Against Linda and Eric?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“And Ryan?”
I looked across the cafeteria.
My husband stood at the vending machines, staring through the glass like a man who no longer recognized his own life.
I thought about the camera.
The crying.
The headphones.
The excuses.
“Yes,” I said.
“Against Ryan too.”
He turned around at that exact moment.
Our eyes met.
He knew.
I could see it.
And perhaps that was the moment our marriage truly ended.
But neither of us yet understood the worst part.
Because when investigators searched our home again that night, they discovered another hidden camera.
This one wasn’t facing the living room.
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It was mounted above Sophie's crib.
And somebody had accessed it remotely more than seventy times.
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