Chapter 6 - The First Wife
Natalie returned to the Mercer house at 2:41 p.m.
She carried two shopping bags and a dark green dress Rebecca had purchased from a department store.
Diane waited in the entrance hall.
“Where were you?”
“Shopping.”
“For four hours?”
“I had trouble finding something.”
Diane looked at the bags.
“Show me.”
Natalie removed the dress.
Diane examined the neckline, fabric, and stitching.
“It is acceptable.”
Mark came down the stairs.
“Where’s the car?”
“Outside.”
“The tracking system stopped working near the library.”
Natalie looked confused.
“The library?”
“That is where the signal disappeared.”
“I drove through the area.”
“Why?”
“Traffic.”
Mark watched her.
Natalie forced herself to smile.
“I wanted to find something your mother would approve of.”
Diane held the dress against Natalie.
“She succeeded.”
Mark’s suspicion softened.
He kissed his mother’s cheek.
“Then I suppose the trip was worth it.”
Natalie carried the bags upstairs.
Inside the lining of the green dress, Rebecca had sewn a tiny memory card containing copies of every document in the warehouse.
Natalie removed it and hid it beneath the insole of an old shoe.
Then she stood before the mirror.
Mark had lied about meeting her.
He had lied about his fertility.
He had lied about a first wife who had vanished.
And in two days, he planned to deliver Natalie to a clinic where an embryo would be placed inside her body without informed consent.
She needed to leave.
But Rebecca had warned her not to run yet.
“If you disappear before we know where the clinic stores its records, Diane will destroy everything,” she had said.
Natalie hated the logic.
Evidence mattered.
Without it, Diane would call her unstable. Mark would claim she had abandoned the marriage. Marrow’s lawyers would bury every accusation.
Natalie needed more than photographs and old newspaper articles.
She needed the locked study.
At dinner, she played the obedient wife.
She thanked Diane for arranging the appointment.
She apologized to Mark for being emotional.
She asked questions about the procedure without sounding suspicious.
“What time do we leave Friday?”
“Six,” Diane said.
“In the morning?”
“In the evening.”
“Why so late?”
“The clinic values privacy.”
“Will I be asleep?”
Mark cut his meat.
“You’ll be sedated.”
“For an examination?”
Diane’s knife stopped.
Natalie lowered her eyes.
“I’m nervous.”
Mark reached across the table and touched her hand.
The gesture looked loving.
His thumb pressed painfully against a bruise.
“There’s nothing to fear,” he said.
Natalie looked at him.
“Will you stay with me?”
“Of course.”
“During the whole procedure?”
His eyes moved toward Diane.
The answer came too slowly.
“As much as they allow.”
After dinner, Natalie carried the dishes into the kitchen.
Diane followed.
“You performed well tonight.”
“I meant what I said.”
“I hope so.”
Natalie placed a plate in the sink.
“Was Mark married before?”
The plate slipped from Diane’s hand.
It struck the sink but did not break.
For one second, the older woman stared at Natalie.
Then she smiled.
“No.”
“I found an old photograph.”
“Of whom?”
“A woman named Anna.”
Diane turned on the faucet.
“Mark dated many women before you.”
“The photograph looked like a wedding portrait.”
“Then you misunderstood it.”
“Where is she now?”
Diane shut off the water.
Her wet hand closed around Natalie’s wrist.
“Do not search for ghosts.”
“What happened to her?”
Diane’s fingernails dug into Natalie’s skin.
“She failed.”
“Failed at what?”
The kitchen door opened.
Mark entered.
Diane released Natalie immediately.
“Your wife is asking about Anna Vale,” she said.
Mark’s face emptied.
Natalie watched both of them.
“I saw a photograph,” she said.
“Where?”
“In the study months ago.”
“You told me you saw nothing in that room.”
“I forgot.”
Mark stepped closer.
“No, you didn’t.”
Diane opened the drawer beside the sink.
The needle tin rested inside.
Natalie saw Mark glance at it.
Not with surprise.
With understanding.
Diane removed a long needle.
“She needs another reminder.”
Natalie backed away.
Mark moved between them.
For a moment, hope rose in her chest.
Then he caught Natalie by both arms and held her still.
Diane approached.
“Where did you hear Anna’s name?” Mark asked.
“I read it.”
“Where?”
Natalie said nothing.
The needle touched the skin beneath her collarbone.
Diane pushed.
Pain flashed through Natalie’s chest.
She cried out.
Mark tightened his grip.
“Answer him,” Diane said.
Natalie stared into her husband’s eyes.
He did not look away this time.
He watched.
“I found a letter,” Natalie gasped.
“What letter?”
“In the study.”
Diane pushed the needle deeper.
Natalie screamed.
“What did it say?”
“I don’t remember.”
Diane withdrew the needle.
A thin line of blood appeared.
She tilted the point toward a second spot.
Natalie panicked.
“It said Anna knew what you put inside her.”
Mark’s grip loosened.
Diane froze.
Silence filled the kitchen.
Then a sound came from the hallway.
A soft electronic chime.
May you like
The study alarm.
Someone had opened the locked door.
