Chapter 6 - What His Father KnewThe Bennett mausoleum sat on twelve private acres north of the city.
Barely.
Doctors stabilized his heart after forty-seven minutes of chaos that felt like the longest hour of my life.
I sat in a wheelchair outside the cardiac unit with Evelyn sleeping against me while nurses moved around us.
I was furious with Sebastian.
Heartbroken by him.
Unsure whether our marriage would survive.
And terrified of losing him anyway.
Love is inconvenient like that.
It doesn’t always disappear when trust does.
Detective Reed stood beside me.
“The medication found in his system matches the substance recovered from the supplements.”
“How long was he taking it?”
“Blood levels suggest repeated exposure.”
“Could it have killed him?”
“Yes.”
The word landed hard.
“So Margaret was poisoning both of us.”
“We still need to establish who administered or supplied the medication.”
“My name was on the prescription.”
“Yes.”
“I never ordered it.”
“We know.”
“Then whoever did this wanted police to blame me if Sebastian died.”
Reed nodded.
“That is one possibility.”
One possibility.
It was the obvious one.
Make me look mentally unstable.
Create evidence of alcohol and medication abuse.
Forge adoption and guardianship papers.
Drug Sebastian with something prescribed in my name.
Then if he died?
The grieving unstable wife becomes a suspect.
The newborn becomes vulnerable.
Margaret becomes guardian.
Four hundred and eighty million dollars falls under her influence.
It was almost elegant.
If you ignored the cruelty.
Camille appeared at the end of the hall.
Reed immediately stiffened.
She raised her hands.
“I’m not here to cause problems.”
“Your mother?”
“In police custody.”
“For what?”
“Obstruction so far.”
“Only obstruction?”
“They found shredded documents in her car.”
Reed glanced at me.
“That’s new.”
Camille nodded.
“They’re searching her townhouse.”
She moved closer.
“I want to help.”
“Why now?” I asked.
She looked at Evelyn.
“Because I thought Mom was controlling. I didn’t know she was dangerous.”
“You watched her destroy me for months.”
“I know.”
“Did you ever believe me?”
Camille looked down.
“No.”
That answer hurt.
“But I should have.”
I turned away.
“You want forgiveness because you finally got scared.”
“No.”
Her voice trembled.
“I want to stop her because I finally understand what she is.”
Detective Reed interrupted.
“What else do you know?”
Camille reached into her coat.
“Mom keeps a second phone.”
“Where?”
“She used to hide it inside Dad’s old desk.”
“Which property?”
“The Bennett Foundation office.”
Reed immediately called another officer.
Camille continued.
“There’s something else.”
I looked at her.
“Voss isn’t the only lawyer involved.”
“Who?”
“Rachel Mercer.”
I recognized that name too.
A family court specialist.
One of the most expensive custody attorneys in Illinois.
“What did Margaret need a custody lawyer for before Evelyn was born?”
Camille gave me a miserable look.
“I think you already know.”
Within hours, police obtained the second phone.
What they found changed everything.
Messages.
Hundreds.
Between Margaret, Dr. Keller, private investigator Eric Sloan, attorney Jonathan Voss and a contact saved only as N.P.
Nora Pike.
The fake nurse.
Reed showed us selected messages.
MARGARET: V is becoming suspicious.
SLOAN: Increase dosage.
KELLER: Not until after week 36. We cannot risk premature delivery.
VOSS: We need documentation, not a medical catastrophe.
MARGARET: I need both.
Another.
MARGARET: Sebastian still refuses to consider separate finances.
VOSS: Then Plan B remains necessary.
Another.
N.P.: Transfer vehicle ready.
MARGARET: Mother must not leave with child.
I nearly dropped the phone.
“There.”
I looked at Reed.
“Arrest her for conspiracy.”
“We’re moving.”
“Moving?”
“Prosecutors are reviewing everything.”
“She tried to steal my baby!”
“I know.”
“She poisoned my husband.”
“We have messages discussing dosage but not yet specifying his medication.”
I wanted to scream.
The law moved differently from fear.
Fear was immediate.
The law wanted chains of evidence.
At noon, Sebastian woke.
I entered his room carrying Evelyn.
His eyes opened slowly.
When he saw us, he started crying.
No sound.
Just tears.
I had never seen him cry before.
I placed Evelyn against his arm.
He kissed her forehead.
Then looked at me.
“I thought I was going to die.”
“So did I.”
“Valerie…”
“Not now.”
He nodded.
For several minutes, we watched our daughter sleep.
Then he whispered, “I changed my will.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Two years ago.”
“Why?”
“My mother kept asking about the trust.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did you change?”
“I made you sole executor of everything involving our child.”
“And Margaret?”
“Removed.”
“When did she find out?”
“Around six months ago.”
Six months.
The supplements began six months ago.
I looked at Reed standing by the door.
He understood immediately.
“Motive,” he said quietly.
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“My mother tried to kill me.”
I didn’t answer.
He already knew.
An officer entered.
“Detective?”
Reed stepped into the hallway.
Seconds later, he returned.
“They found Eric Sloan.”
“Where?”
“Dead.”
The room became cold.
“How?”
“Vehicle accident outside Milwaukee.”
“Accident?”
Reed’s expression said he didn’t believe it.
“His car left the highway around four this morning.”
Sebastian looked at me.
“After the hospital plan failed.”
Exactly.
Someone was cleaning up.
Reed continued.
“Before he died, Sloan sent an email.”
“To whom?”
“You.”
He pointed at me.
My heart stopped.
“I don’t know him.”
“Apparently he knew you.”
Reed opened his tablet.
The message had been scheduled for automatic delivery.
It contained one sentence.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, MARGARET FOUND OUT I KEPT COPIES. LOOK WHERE THE BENNETTS BURY THEIR SECRETS.
Attached was a photograph.
An old stone building surrounded by trees.
Sebastian stared at it.
“I know that place.”
“What is it?”
“Our family mausoleum.”
I looked at him.
“You bury documents in a cemetery?”
“No.”
His voice changed.
“My father is buried there.”
Then he zoomed in on the photograph.
On the mausoleum door was something neither of us noticed at first.
May you like
A small white envelope.
And written across it in black marker was my name.
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