Chapter 15 - THE BIRTHDAY ROOM
Jason asked to speak with me through a secure police line.
He believed he knew where Diane had gone.
His father had owned a house in Lake Forest before his death.
The property was supposedly sold years earlier.
Jason discovered that one of Diane’s shell companies still paid the property taxes.
Police surrounded the estate before dawn.
The house appeared abandoned.
Inside, however, electricity was running.
Fresh food filled the refrigerator.
A child’s bedroom had been prepared upstairs.
The walls were painted pale yellow.
A new crib stood beside the window even though Lily had not used a crib for nearly a year.
Her name had been painted above the bed.
The closet contained dresses in her size.
Family photographs had been altered to remove me.
In every frame, Diane stood beside Jason and Lily.
The dining room had been recreated to resemble the night of the birthday party.
White roses covered the table.
Crystal glasses stood beneath a chandelier.
A chocolate cake waited beside sixty-two candles.
Diane was not there.
But she had left a recording.
Police played it for Eleanor and me.
“If you are hearing this, Emily has poisoned my children against me.”
“She believes motherhood is determined by biology.”
“She is wrong.”
“Motherhood belongs to the person strong enough to shape a child.”
“I shaped Jason.”
“I shaped Brooke.”
“I will shape Lily.”
The recording ended with a lullaby.
It was the song Diane used to hum whenever she took Lily from my arms without asking.
Detectives searched the property for six hours.
In the basement, they found maps of Rachel’s building, Lily’s daycare, Eleanor’s office, and my former workplace.
A red circle surrounded one location.
The Chicago Children’s Museum.
Lily and I had visited it every second Sunday before the separation.
The next second Sunday was two days away.
Police believed Diane expected us to maintain the routine.
We would not be there.
Still, Bell set a trap.
Officers dressed as families.
Undercover agents watched every entrance.
A policewoman matching my height wore my coat.
A doll was wrapped in Lily’s yellow blanket.
At eleven-forty, a woman entered through the east doors.
She wore a dark wig and pushed an empty stroller.
Her face remained hidden beneath a scarf.
She followed the policewoman for three minutes.
Then she reached inside her coat.
Officers surrounded her.
The woman screamed.
It was not Diane.
It was Thomas Redd’s sister.
She had been paid to create a distraction.
While police focused on the museum, someone entered Rachel’s apartment building using a stolen maintenance badge.
Rachel was home alone.
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At twelve-oh-three, her emergency alarm activated.
Then the signal abruptly stopped.
