Chapter 12 - The Recording
I was not allowed to hear the recording immediately.
That was probably for the best.
Because for the first time in my adult life, I was afraid of what I might do with the truth.
Not because I wanted revenge.
I did.
I would be lying if I said otherwise.
But I knew the difference between wanting something and acting on it.
A colonel who couldn't control herself had no business commanding soldiers.
And a mother who let her anger destroy the case against her daughter's abusers would only hand them another victory.
So I waited.
I helped Abby choose clothes for her discharge.
I spoke with Naomi about temporary housing.
I arranged leave through my command.
And I kept checking with the doctors about the baby.
By Tuesday, Abby's condition had improved enough for the medical team to discuss discharge plans.
She still needed close prenatal care.
She still needed rest.
She still had injuries that would take time to heal.
But she was eating.
Sleeping.
Speaking.
And asking questions.
A remarkable number of questions.
"Can I change my phone number?"
"Yes."
"Can I get my own bank account?"
"Yes."
"Can I decide who comes to the delivery?"
"Yes."
Every time she heard that word, something in her expression changed.
The old Abby began appearing in small pieces.
The girl who argued with referees at soccer games.
The teenager who insisted on learning to change her own tires.
The young woman who told me she would marry Travis even if I thought he was too polished.
I had never forbidden the marriage.
I had simply asked whether she was sure.
She had laughed.
"Mom, he's not one of your lieutenants."
Now I wondered whether she remembered that conversation.
I hoped not.
There were enough reasons for both of us to feel regret.
On Wednesday afternoon, Detective Vega asked to meet with me in a private room.
Naomi joined us.
Vega placed a small recorder on the table.
"Colonel, I'm sharing an authorized portion of this because it concerns threats directed at you and information relevant to Abby's safety planning."
I nodded.
"Before we start, understand that we are still authenticating the full recording."
"Understood."
"Rebecca claims she made it during a meeting at the apartment."
I looked at the recorder.
"Why would she record them?"
"She says she was concerned about liability."
I almost laughed.
A lawyer who helped prepare documents to strip my daughter of her independence had suddenly become concerned about liability.
Of course she had.
Vega pressed play.
A woman's voice filled the room.
Glenda.
"She needs to stop asking questions."
Then Travis.
"She's not going to sign another thing."
Glenda snapped.
"Then you need to make her understand."
"Mom, she's pregnant."
"I know perfectly well that she's pregnant."
A rustling sound.
Then another voice.
Rebecca.
"We need to keep this professional."
Glenda laughed.
"Professional?"
"Yes."
"Your paperwork doesn't mean anything if she keeps calling that woman."
My hands turned cold.
That woman.
Me.
Travis said, "The colonel already suspects something."
Glenda answered immediately.
"Then give her the same answer."
"What answer?"
"She's asleep."
Silence filled the recording.
Then Travis spoke.
"That won't work forever."
Glenda's voice became sharp.
"It only needs to work until October."
I felt Naomi shift beside me.
Rebecca asked, "What happens in October?"
Glenda didn't answer immediately.
Then she said, "The bank releases the next payment once the required documents are accepted."
Mercer's voice entered the recording.
I recognized it instantly.
"That's not guaranteed."
Glenda sounded furious.
"You told me it was."
"I told you the funds might be accessible if the legal documentation was sufficient."
Rebecca said, "And if Abby challenges the documents, the entire arrangement collapses."
Travis spoke again.
"So what happens if she refuses to sign?"
A pause.
Then Glenda.
"Then she doesn't get a choice."
The recording stopped.
I stared at the table.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Finally, I looked up.
"Play the rest."
Vega shook her head.
"Not yet."
"Detective."
"Colonel, I need you focused on your daughter's safety."
I swallowed.
"Was there more?"
"Yes."
"Did anyone discuss hurting her?"
Vega considered her words.
"There are statements about restricting her movement and controlling her medication."
I closed my eyes.
"Do they identify who was responsible?"
"Some of the speakers make statements relevant to that."
I felt my hands shaking.
"Was Travis there?"
"Yes."
"Did he object?"
"In parts of the recording."
I looked up.
"Did he stop them?"
Vega was silent.
That was answer enough.
Naomi placed a hand on my arm.
"Quinn."
I turned.
She rarely used my first name.
"Look at me."
I did.
"Abby is alive."
I swallowed.
"She's here."
I nodded.
"And what happens next needs to protect her."
I forced myself to breathe.
"You're right."
Vega turned off the recorder.
Then she said, "The recording also suggests their financial plan was failing."
I looked at her.
"Failing?"
"Meridian had not approved the larger distribution."
"Because of the suspicious paperwork."
"That appears to be part of it."
"So why keep Abby isolated?"
Vega leaned forward.
"Because the people involved still hoped to establish a legal basis for controlling her finances."
I closed my eyes.
"And the baby?"
"The caregiving documents were part of that plan."
I stared at her.
"Glenda wanted him."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Vega hesitated.
"Rebecca claims Glenda was obsessed with the idea of raising another child after losing custody of a grandson years earlier."
I frowned.
"Another grandson?"
"Travis's older brother has a son."
I sat upright.
"Abby said Glenda lost a baby."
"She may have been referring to that relationship."
"What happened?"
"Rebecca says there was a bitter family dispute."
I looked at Naomi.
"Is that relevant?"
"It may help explain motive, but it doesn't excuse conduct or establish every allegation."
I nodded.
Vega continued.
"The older brother reportedly cut off contact with Glenda."
"Why?"
"We're looking into it."
I stared at the recorder.
For weeks, I had thought the scheme was about money.
Now I wondered whether money was only part of it.
Maybe Glenda wanted control.
Maybe she wanted another chance to raise a child she could shape in her own image.
Maybe Travis wanted his debts erased.
Maybe Mercer wanted fees.
Maybe Rebecca wanted clients.
Different motives.
One victim.
My daughter.
I looked at Vega.
"What happens now?"
"We're evaluating additional charges and coordinating with the prosecutor."
"Will you arrest them?"
"I can't promise a timeline."
I nodded.
Then Vega said, "There is one other person we want to speak with."
"Who?"
"Travis's older brother."
I frowned.
"What's his name?"
"Caleb Keene."
I had met him once.
At Abby's wedding.
He'd stood near the back of the reception hall, holding a little boy's hand.
He hadn't stayed long.
I remembered Travis saying Caleb was difficult.
That he held grudges.
That Glenda had tried to help him, but he wouldn't listen.
I had believed him.
Just as I had believed so many things.
"Where is Caleb now?"
"Columbus, Ohio."
"Does he know about Abby?"
"Not yet."
I looked at the recorder.
"Then somebody needs to tell him."
Vega stood.
"We will."
The next afternoon, Caleb Keene called the detective.
He had received a message asking whether he would be willing to discuss his mother's history.
He said yes.
But before agreeing to an interview, he asked one question.
"Is the pregnant woman still alive?"
Vega told him Abby was receiving medical care.
There was a long silence.
Then Caleb said, "Thank God."
The detective asked why he'd said that.
May you like
His answer was simple.
"Because my mother told me Travis had finally found a wife who would give her the grandchild she deserved."
