Chapter 5 - THE PHONE
We walked back inside like nothing had happened.
Margaret smiled.
“Early morning drive?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I said.
She handed Gwen her phone.
“You left this downstairs.”
Gwen took it without looking at her.
Margaret turned to me.
“You must be exhausted.”
“I’ve had worse nights.”
“I’m sure.”
Her eyes stayed on mine a little too long.
She knew something had changed.
She just didn’t know how much.
At breakfast, I played stupid.
That was harder than it sounds.
Paige bragged about the truck.
Margaret complained about property taxes.
Gwen barely spoke.
I laughed when I was supposed to laugh.
Then I said I needed to go into town to handle paperwork.
Paige looked suspicious.
“What paperwork?”
“Veterans stuff.”
She relaxed.
Nobody understands government paperwork better than somebody who wants to avoid it.
I drove to see Marcus Reed.
Marcus and I had served together years earlier.
He was out now and working as an investigator for a law firm.
When he opened his front door, he grinned.
“You look terrible.”
“Good to see you too.”
Then he saw my face.
The grin vanished.
“What happened?”
For twenty minutes, I told him everything.
The money.
The forged loan.
Gwen.
The miscarriage.
The cancer.
The bruises.
Marcus didn’t interrupt once.
When I finished, he leaned back.
“Do not confront them yet.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“You need copies of everything. Bank statements. Loan documents. Medical records if Gwen consents. Messages. Emails.”
“They may have deleted them.”
“Deleted isn’t always gone.”
He looked at me.
“Most important question: Is Gwen in immediate danger?”
“Yes.”
“Then get her out.”
“I want to.”
“Not want. Do it.”
“She’s terrified.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“David, people don’t stay in houses like that because somebody yelled at them. There’s usually leverage.”
I knew he was right.
When I got home, Paige was gone.
Margaret was taking a bath.
I found Gwen in the laundry room.
“We’re leaving tonight,” I said.
Her face drained of color.
“No.”
“Gwen—”
“No.”
“I’m not asking you to stay here.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
She looked toward the hallway.
Then she pulled out her phone.
With trembling fingers, she opened a hidden folder.
Inside were photographs.
Bruises.
A broken bedroom door.
A medical appointment card.
A picture of a smashed laptop.
Then a video.
Gwen pressed play.
Paige appeared on screen, screaming.
“You tell David anything and I swear to God, I’ll send him every picture. Every message. Everything.”
The video ended.
I looked at Gwen.
“What pictures?”
Her face crumpled.
May you like
“They made it look like I was cheating on you.”
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