Chapter 5 - THE HOUSE WAS WATCHING US
We didn't go back inside the chapel.
The wedding guests were sent home.
My sister took Emily to her house.
I called the police.
Not because I knew exactly what crime had been committed.
Because I no longer knew what Rebecca was capable of.
Two detectives arrived.
Rebecca refused to answer questions without an attorney.
Nathan did the same.
Margaret couldn't stop crying.
Thomas looked like he'd aged twenty years.
Martin stayed beside me.
“Do not go home alone.”
“Why?”
“Because if Nathan was telling the truth about cameras, we don't know what's there.”
Police accompanied me home.
The house looked exactly as I'd left it that morning.
Emily's backpack hung beside the kitchen.
Her cereal bowl was still in the sink.
Wedding gifts covered the dining room table.
One detective began searching.
It took him eleven minutes.
He found the first camera inside a smoke detector.
The second was behind a bookshelf.
The third was inside the kitchen clock.
The fourth was in my bedroom.
I stared at it.
Rebecca had practically lived here for a year.
She had keys.
Access.
Trust.
“Why would she record me?”
The detective didn't answer.
Martin did.
“To manufacture evidence.”
We found the computer in Rebecca's home office.
There were hundreds of video clips.
Most were ordinary.
Me cooking.
Me helping Emily with homework.
Me falling asleep on the couch.
Then Martin found a folder.
DANIEL INCIDENTS.
Inside were edited clips.
One showed me shouting.
But the beginning was removed.
The full recording revealed that I'd shouted because Emily nearly ran into the street.
Another showed a whiskey bottle beside me.
It didn't show Rebecca placing it there.
Another showed Emily crying in her bedroom.
The clip ended before I entered and comforted her.
Every recording had been cut to make me look dangerous.
Then we found audio files.
My voice.
Except some of the words were things I'd never said.
They had been assembled from fragments of conversations.
“I don't want Emily.”
“She should live somewhere else.”
“I can't handle her.”
My stomach turned.
“She was going to use this in court.”
Martin nodded.
The detective opened another folder.
FINANCIAL.
Bank statements.
Insurance documents.
My will.
Sarah's trust.
Emily's trust.
And one document that stopped everyone.
A life insurance policy.
On me.
Coverage amount:
$5 million.
Beneficiary:
Rebecca Cole.
I had never signed it.
The detective zoomed in.
My signature was there.
Forged.
Martin whispered, “Daniel.”
I couldn't speak.
Then the detective clicked another file.
It was a calendar.
Wedding.
Honeymoon.
School transfer.
Trust transfer.
Insurance review.
May you like
Beside one date, three weeks after our honeymoon, Rebecca had written only two words.
ACCIDENT WINDOW.
