Chapter 9 - THE SAFE HOUSE
Eleanor moved us before midnight.
The new location was a private residence in Oak Park owned by a retired judge who assisted families in high-risk cases.
There were cameras on every entrance.
The windows were reinforced.
A police vehicle passed the street every hour.
Lily thought we were visiting a new house.
I let her believe it.
She played with wooden blocks on the living room rug while adults discussed threats in the kitchen.
The photograph from Raymond’s flash drive had been taken by a second investigator.
His name was Thomas Redd.
Redd had followed us from Eleanor’s office.
Police arrested him near the hotel.
He immediately claimed Diane hired him through Raymond.
His instructions were to identify my location, photograph everyone assisting me, and document any behavior that could be portrayed as unstable parenting.
He had also been told to create situations that would make me appear careless.
“What kind of situations?” I asked.
Detective Bell hesitated.
“Leaving an anonymous package outside your door.”
“What was inside?”
“A bottle of prescription sedatives and an empty liquor container.”
The plan was simple.
Redd would place the items near my belongings.
Another investigator would photograph them.
Diane’s attorneys would claim I mixed medication and alcohol while caring for Lily.
Even from a jail cell, she was trying to control the story.
Eleanor placed both hands on the kitchen table.
“This helps us.”
“It doesn’t feel helpful.”
“It proves intent.”
“She was willing to risk Lily being near drugs just to frame me.”
“Yes.”
The truth no longer shocked me.
It clarified everything.
Diane did not love people.
She collected them.
Jason was her obedient son.
Brooke was her public defender.
I was her financial resource.
Lily was a new generation to control.
That afternoon, Jason requested an emergency meeting with Eleanor.
He offered to cooperate with prosecutors in exchange for expanded visitation.
Eleanor asked whether I would hear him.
I agreed under one condition.
The meeting would be recorded.
Jason arrived without his mother’s attorney.
He looked older than he had two weeks earlier.
He placed a folder on the table.
Inside were financial statements, passwords, and copies of messages between Diane and Raymond.
“I can prove Mom ordered the break-in,” he said.
“Why help now?” I asked.
“Because she told her lawyer to blame everything on me.”
I almost laughed.
“You finally became useful to her as a sacrifice.”
His eyes lowered.
“I know how that sounds.”
“It sounds like you are protecting yourself.”
“I’m trying to protect Lily.”
“You had that chance in the dining room.”
“I failed.”
“You failed long before that.”
He nodded.
Then he pushed one final document toward me.
It was a life insurance policy.
The insured person was me.
The beneficiary was Jason.
The policy had been purchased eighteen months earlier.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
May you like
I had never signed it.
The coverage amount was two million dollars.
