Chapter 4 - The Woman at the Window
Rachel Mercer had been dead for eighteen months.
Daniel identified her body himself.
The accident occurred on a mountain road during a thunderstorm. Her car broke through a barrier and fell nearly sixty feet into a ravine.
By the time rescuers reached her, the front of the vehicle had burned.
The medical examiner used dental records to confirm her identity.
Daniel remembered standing beside the sealed coffin, unable to understand how the woman he had kissed that morning had become someone he was not allowed to see.
Now his daughter was saying Rachel had returned.
“When did you see Mommy?” Daniel asked.
Lily wiped her eyes.
“After Christmas.”
“That was six months after the accident.”
“She was outside my window.”
“Were you dreaming?”
“No.”
“What did she look like?”
“She had a scarf on her face. She was crying.”
Detective Cole leaned closer.
“Did she speak to you?”
Lily nodded.
“She said, ‘Don’t trust the woman who knows the song.’”
Daniel’s skin prickled.
“What song?”
Lily looked at him.
“The one Mommy sang when Noah couldn’t sleep.”
Rachel had invented a lullaby for their son.
She never wrote it down.
Only Daniel, Rachel, Lily, and Noah knew the words.
Vanessa had heard it occasionally, but she had never sung it.
At least, not while Daniel was present.
“What happened after you saw her?” Detective Cole asked.
“Aunt Vanessa came in. Mommy ran away.”
“Did your aunt see her?”
“She looked out the window. Then she got very angry.”
“What did she do?”
Lily’s fingers moved to the bruises on her wrist.
“She asked what Mommy said.”
Daniel closed the notebook.
He could not continue questioning her.
Not while Noah was in the hospital.
Not while every answer threatened to break apart the facts of Rachel’s death.
Detective Cole arranged for a child protection specialist to accompany them.
At the hospital, Noah had regained consciousness.
Daniel entered his room and sat beside the bed.
The boy looked impossibly small beneath the white sheets.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
Noah’s eyes filled with tears.
“Did you bring food?”
The question cut through Daniel.
“Are you hungry?”
Noah nodded.
“They said I was bad.”
“Who said that?”
“Aunt Ness.”
“For what?”
Noah looked toward the hospital door.
“For taking bread.”
Daniel lowered his head.
He wanted to shout.
To break something.
Instead, he held his son’s hand.
“You will never be punished for eating.”
Noah seemed confused by the promise.
A physician entered carrying test results.
Dr. Samuel Park explained that Noah had been receiving repeated doses of a prescription sedative not approved for children.
“Could one dose cause this?” Daniel asked.
“No. The levels suggest ongoing exposure.”
“For how long?”
“Several weeks, possibly longer.”
Daniel looked at Detective Cole.
She stepped into the hallway to contact the investigating officers.
Dr. Park continued.
“Mr. Mercer, we also found signs of nutritional deficiency. Your son has lost nearly ten percent of his body weight since his last recorded physical.”
“His aunt took him to his appointments.”
“The records show that his last three appointments were canceled.”
Daniel’s throat tightened.
“I didn’t know.”
Dr. Park did not judge him openly, which somehow made the shame worse.
“You know now,” he said. “What matters is what you do next.”
Daniel sat with Noah until the boy fell asleep.
Then he found Detective Cole near the nurses’ station.
“Tell me about Mr. Vale.”
She crossed her arms.
“Adrian Vale was an intelligence contractor. Surveillance, corporate investigations, asset recovery.”
“Was?”
“His license was revoked four years ago after a witness disappeared during a fraud case.”
“What does he have to do with my family?”
“That is what I’m trying to determine.”
“You recognized the name immediately.”
“My former partner investigated him.”
“What happened?”
“He died.”
Daniel waited.
Detective Cole’s jaw tightened.
“Officially, it was suicide.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
A nurse approached carrying a clear evidence bag.
“We found this sewn inside the boy’s pajama collar.”
Inside was a tiny black device.
A microphone.
Someone had been listening to Noah.
Detective Cole examined it.
“This is professional equipment.”
Daniel looked through the glass into his son’s room.
“What did Vanessa bring into my house?”
The detective’s phone rang.
She answered, listened, then turned toward Daniel.
“Your sister’s car was found at the train station.”
“Was she there?”
“No.”
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“What did you find?”
“Blood on the driver’s seat.”
