Chapter 14 - The Window
Police moved them again.
A secure hotel.
No public reservation.
Two officers downstairs.
Briggs finally stopped using words like precaution.
“This is intimidation.”
Evelyn held Wren against her.
“Arrest him.”
“We cannot prove Cole took the photograph.”
“He knew where we were.”
“So did several people.”
“Who?”
“Family, counsel, police personnel.”
Helen shook her head.
“Cole always finds a gap.”
Briggs looked at her.
“Then we close them.”
Wren stopped sleeping.
She checked windows repeatedly.
She began carrying Nathan’s brass key in her fist instead of around her neck.
One night Evelyn found her sitting on the bathroom floor.
“I made Dad die.”
Evelyn’s heart broke.
“What?”
“If I had told you better—”
“No.”
“But I heard them fight.”
“No.”
“I saw Cole with the pills.”
“Wren.”
Evelyn took her face gently.
“Your father was an adult. Cole is an adult. Nothing they did was your responsibility.”
“But Dad gave me the key.”
“Yes.”
“That means he needed me.”
“He trusted you.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Evelyn’s voice shook.
“It should not have been the same thing.”
She finally understood the cruelest part of Nathan’s plan.
He had loved Wren so completely that he believed hiding evidence inside their games was protection.
But he had made her guardian of adult secrets.
Cole had then turned those secrets into fear.
Evelyn would not romanticize it.
The next morning the medical examiner issued an amended preliminary opinion.
Nathan’s fatal arrhythmia was consistent with digoxin toxicity.
The manner of death remained pending investigation.
But the case had changed.
Briggs obtained additional warrants.
Cole’s company laptop was seized.
So was his home computer.
He was not arrested.
Yet.
Digital investigators found that someone using a device registered to Cole had accessed Nathan’s patient portal repeatedly during the month before his death.
Cole claimed Nathan had asked him to manage medical appointments during a busy travel period.
Then investigators found something worse.
The dosage-change request used a saved credential belonging to a nurse at Nathan’s cardiology practice.
That credential had been captured through a phishing email.
The phishing message had been sent from a server paid for with a virtual card.
The virtual card belonged to Barrett Strategic Holdings.
Leah called Evelyn.
“This could be it.”
“Could?”
“The state still has to prove Cole authorized the transaction. A company card can be used by employees.”
“He had no employees at Barrett Strategic.”
“Good fact.”
“So arrest him.”
“Briggs is working with the prosecutor.”
Cole reacted before the prosecutor did.
He called Evelyn directly from an unknown number.
“You think a server bill proves murder?”
She recorded the call.
“I think you sound nervous.”
“You should be more worried about Nathan.”
“He’s dead.”
“And his name is about to become synonymous with fraud.”
“You stole the money.”
“He signed the paperwork.”
“You altered his prescription.”
Silence.
Then Cole laughed.
“You’re learning from your daughter.”
“What does that mean?”
“Say something enough times and eventually someone believes it.”
Evelyn’s grip tightened.
“You stay away from Wren.”
“You keep saying that like I’m interested in hurting her.”
“You photographed her.”
“No.”
“You threatened her.”
“No.”
“You watched her.”
A pause.
Then:
“Children notice things they don’t understand.”
Evelyn felt ice spread through her.
“What did she notice?”
Cole hung up.
Wren had noticed more than the argument.
More than the pills.
More than Cole returning to the house.
That afternoon Evelyn asked her one final time.
“Did you see Cole do anything else the night before Dad died?”
Wren shook her head.
Then stopped.
“What?”
“There was a bag.”
“What bag?”
“Dad had it.”
“Where?”
“In the backyard.”
“When?”
“The last night.”
Evelyn stared.
“What was he doing?”
“Putting papers in something.”
“Where?”
May you like
Wren whispered:
“In a hole.”
