Chapter 11 - The First Attempt
Lucas had been sick three weeks before the ferry.
Vomiting.
Weakness.
Unusual sleepiness.
The pediatrician diagnosed a stomach virus.
Andrew had been in Boston.
Monica stayed home with Lucas.
Rachel remembered something.
“She refused to let the night nurse come.”
Andrew turned.
“What?”
“Monica told scheduling Lucas was contagious.”
Records confirmed it.
The night nurse had been canceled.
Security video from the mansion showed Monica entering the kitchen at 2:11 a.m.
She opened Lucas’s formula container.
The kitchen camera did not show what she added.
But it showed her holding a small dropper bottle.
The next morning Lucas became ill.
Andrew watched the recording with his hand over his mouth.
“She already tried.”
Detective Chen remained cautious.
“We need evidence of what was in the bottle.”
Police searched Monica’s personal storage unit.
They found the dropper bottle.
Empty.
Residue testing detected a concentrated herbal compound that could cause severe gastrointestinal symptoms in an infant but was unlikely to be fatal at the measured dose.
Rachel stared.
“She was testing.”
Andrew looked at her.
“What?”
“Testing whether she could make him sick without being caught.”
The idea was horrifying.
David’s interview supported it.
He said Monica wanted proof she could create a medical crisis that appeared natural.
David claimed he told her to stop.
Nobody believed his moral objection.
He was afraid of exposure.
The psychological pattern became clearer.
Monica escalated.
First surveillance.
Then illness.
Then planning controlled incidents.
Then the ferry.
Andrew’s guilt deepened.
He remembered coming home after Lucas recovered.
Monica had been exhausted.
She cried against Andrew’s chest.
“I thought we were going to lose him.”
He had held her.
Comforted her.
Thanked her for caring for their son.
Now he knew she had poisoned the formula.
Andrew punched the wall.
Rachel flinched.
His knuckles split.
“Andrew.”
He stared at the blood.
“I held her.”
Rachel grabbed a towel.
“Sit down.”
“I told her she was a good mother.”
“Sit.”
He obeyed.
Rachel wrapped his hand.
“You didn’t know.”
“I keep hearing that.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
“And useless.”
“No.”
Rachel tightened the cloth.
“Being deceived is not the same as approving what happened.”
Andrew looked at her.
“But ignoring warning signs?”
“That’s different.”
He said nothing.
“You ignored Victor because confronting him threatened the company.”
“Yes.”
“You trusted David because reading legal documents was inconvenient.”
“Yes.”
“You let Monica make staffing decisions around Lucas because it made your life easier.”
“Yes.”
Rachel’s eyes softened only slightly.
“Those things are yours.”
Andrew nodded.
“And her crimes are hers.”
He looked at his bandaged hand.
“I understand.”
For once, he actually did.
The investigation into Harold deepened.
David eventually admitted the $500,000 payment to Monica was for obtaining copies of Harold’s trust revisions.
Not murder.
But the timing remained suspicious.
Then Rachel found something in Harold’s video.
Not in the words.
In the background.
A clock.
The date stamp said four days before Harold died.
But the clock calendar showed a date six days before.
“What if the timestamp is wrong?” Rachel asked.
Officer Grant examined the original file.
It had been copied to the flash drive later.
Metadata had been altered during transfer.
The video was actually recorded six days before Harold’s death.
That meant Harold had two more days after the warning before the warehouse meeting.
What happened there?
Police searched the abandoned warehouse again.
Behind an old filing cabinet they found a damaged microSD card.
Security equipment from years earlier.
Officer Grant recovered partial footage.
Harold entered at 4:12 p.m.
Monica arrived at 4:17.
David arrived at 4:21.
They argued.
No audio survived.
At 4:44, Harold pointed toward the door.
David left.
Monica remained.
At 4:51, Harold collapsed into a chair.
Monica moved toward him.
Andrew stopped breathing.
She reached into her handbag.
The video corrupted.
Skipped.
Returned nine minutes later.
Harold was standing again.
Monica was gone.
Rachel whispered, “He didn’t die there.”
“No.”
But something had happened.
Then Grant recovered one additional frame.
May you like
Monica’s handbag was open.
Inside was a prescription bottle bearing Harold Bennett’s name.
