Chapter 7 - The House Across the State Line
The photograph showed my front porch.
The white rocking chair Rob had built.
The flowerpots Abby painted when she was eleven.
And the American flag hanging beside my door.
I stared at the image until every detail began to blur.
The flag was moving in the wind.
The morning newspaper lay beside the steps.
The picture had been taken after sunrise.
Someone had been standing outside my house while I sat beside my daughter in Indianapolis.
Detective Vega studied the message.
"Don't respond."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Has anyone entered your home while you've been away?"
"Not with permission."
I called the installation's appropriate security contact and arranged for a check of my residence through normal channels.
I also called my deputy commander.
I told him I would be taking emergency family leave.
I did not give him orders involving the investigation.
I did not request soldiers to protect my private property.
And I did not use my rank to turn a family emergency into a military operation.
Those boundaries mattered.
Because the moment I crossed them, Travis would have another weapon.
He would tell the world that his powerful mother-in-law had come after him with the United States Army.
I wasn't going to give him that story.
By evening, local police had checked the house.
No sign of forced entry.
Nothing obviously missing.
But a neighbor's doorbell camera showed a gray sedan slowing near the driveway that morning.
The driver couldn't be identified from the available footage.
I passed the information to Vega.
Then I went back to Abby.
She was sitting up, eating a few bites of toast.
A nurse had brushed her hair into a loose braid.
It was such a small thing.
And yet it made me want to cry.
For two months, nobody had bothered to care for my daughter's hair without demanding something in return.
"Hey, sweetheart."
She looked up.
"Mom."
"How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck."
I smiled faintly.
"That's my girl."
She tried to smile.
Then she noticed my expression.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing you need to worry about tonight."
She put down the toast.
"Mom."
I sat beside her.
"You can tell me."
I looked at her carefully.
"Someone sent a photograph of my house."
Her face changed.
"What kind of photograph?"
"From outside."
"Today?"
"Yes."
She began trembling.
I leaned forward.
"Abby?"
She covered her mouth.
"Oh, God."
"What?"
"I forgot."
"Forgot what?"
She stared at me.
"Travis asked about your alarm system."
I went still.
"When?"
"About a month ago."
"What did he ask?"
"Whether you still used the same code."
I felt a chill spread down my back.
"What did you tell him?"
"Nothing."
I exhaled.
"Good."
"But then he asked if Dad's old safe was still in the house."
I stared at her.
"Rob's safe?"
She nodded.
Rob had kept a small fireproof safe in the basement.
Birth certificates.
Marriage records.
Insurance policies.
Copies of estate documents.
Family photographs.
And a few letters he'd written before his final deployment.
I hadn't opened it in nearly two years.
"Why would Travis ask about that?"
"I don't know."
Abby began crying.
"I thought he wanted Dad's pictures for the baby."
I took her hand.
"Sweetheart, you didn't know what he was doing."
She looked at me.
"Mom, I gave him something."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"A copy of Dad's trust papers."
I swallowed.
"When?"
"Last spring."
Before the pregnancy had begun.
Before Glenda moved in.
Before the calls stopped.
"Why?"
"He said we should understand our finances before starting a family."
I stared at her.
That was a reasonable request.
An ordinary conversation between married people.
The kind of thing a responsible spouse might ask.
And that made the deception uglier.
Travis hadn't needed to start with threats.
He had started with trust.
"Did you give him anything else?"
Abby wiped her face.
"A copy of the marriage certificate."
"Anything from the safe?"
She hesitated.
"Mom, he came to your house in June."
I frowned.
"June?"
"The weekend you were at that training conference."
My pulse quickened.
"He said you told him to pick up some old family documents."
I stared at her.
"I didn't."
Her face went white.
"I let him in."
A long silence followed.
"Abby, was he alone?"
"No."
My chest tightened.
"Who was with him?"
"Glenda."
I closed my eyes.
My daughter had given them access to my house because she believed they had permission.
I could picture the two of them walking down the basement stairs.
Searching through Rob's belongings.
Opening drawers.
Taking photographs.
Looking for signatures.
For account numbers.
For anything they could use.
Then Abby whispered, "There was another woman."
I opened my eyes.
"What?"
"She waited in the car."
"Did you see her?"
"Just for a second."
"Can you describe her?"
Abby nodded slowly.
"Dark hair."
I waited.
"Maybe forty."
"Anything else?"
"She wore a red coat."
My throat tightened.
"Did Travis say who she was?"
"His accountant."
I stared at Abby.
"Rebecca?"
She swallowed.
"I think so."
I called Vega.
She listened carefully.
Then she said, "That gives us a specific date and location to investigate."
"Can you get the doorbell footage?"
"If it's still available."
"I'll ask my neighbor to preserve anything from that weekend."
"Good."
I looked at Abby.
"Detective, she also says Travis asked about Rob's safe."
"Is it still in your house?"
"Yes."
"Has anyone checked it?"
"Not yet."
"Don't go there alone."
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Understood."
That night, Abby slept for almost six uninterrupted hours.
I sat beside the window.
Earl came in after midnight with a sandwich and a bottle of water.
"Eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Wasn't a question."
I looked at him.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Thirty years serving under officers, ma'am."
I took the sandwich.
He sat across from me.
"How's she doing?"
"Better."
"And the baby?"
"Still holding on."
He nodded.
Then he looked at the little yellow socks on the bedside table.
"Rob would've liked those."
I smiled sadly.
"He would've bought twenty pairs."
Earl chuckled.
"He once spent forty-seven dollars on a stuffed giraffe because Abby said it looked lonely."
I laughed.
Then I cried.
Earl didn't say anything.
He just sat there.
After a while, he reached into his jacket.
"I found something."
He handed me a folded piece of paper.
"What is it?"
"A copy of an email you sent me in June."
I frowned.
"I sent you an email in June?"
"About that training conference."
I opened it.
The message contained my schedule.
Travel dates.
Hotel.
Return time.
I looked at Earl.
"So?"
"Look at the forwarded address."
I scanned the header.
Then my stomach dropped.
The email had been forwarded from my personal account to another address.
An unfamiliar account.
The forwarding happened at 2:13 in the morning.
While I had been asleep.
I stared at the screen.
"That wasn't me."
Earl nodded.
"That's what I figured."
I looked toward Abby.
Sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks.
Then I looked back at the email.
Someone had known exactly when I would be away from home.
And now I understood why Travis had wanted my old tablet.
They hadn't only stolen my daughter's freedom.
They had used my own devices to build a map of mine.
At 1:26 a.m., a message arrived from Vega.
She had spoken to the detective handling the financial side of the investigation.
The message contained one sentence.
Colonel, we have identified a second account receiving funds tied to the trust withdrawal.
I called immediately.
"Whose account?"
Vega answered on the second ring.
"We're still confirming control of it."
"Rebecca?"
"Possibly."
"Glenda?"
"Possibly."
I closed my eyes.
"Then what do you know?"
There was a pause.
"One of the transfers was labeled as payment for residential care."
I frowned.
"Residential care?"
"For your daughter."
I stood.
"She never received residential care."
"I know."
"Where was the money sent?"
Vega hesitated.
"To a company called Haven Ridge Family Services."
I stared at the wall.
"Never heard of it."
"Neither had Abby."
"What does it do?"
"According to its registration, it provides private family support and caregiving services."
"And in reality?"
"We're checking."
Then Vega said something that made my skin crawl.
"Colonel, the company was formed eight months ago."
I swallowed.
"Before Abby got pregnant."
"Yes."
"And its registered address?"
May you like
A pause.
"Glenda Keene's former home."
