Chapter 2 - The Boy in the Attic
Caleb Dawson was fifteen.
He lived two farms away from Emma Miller.
For the next hour, he sat wrapped in a police blanket on the porch while detectives photographed the house.
His story came in pieces.
Robert Miller had arrived shortly after sunset three nights earlier.
Caleb had been cutting through the field behind the property on his way home from a friend's house.
He heard shouting.
Then glass breaking.
He knew Emma.
Everyone in the rural community knew everyone.
So he walked closer.
Through the kitchen window he saw Robert standing over Emma's mother, Grace.
Grace held one of the twins.
Robert was pointing at her.
Caleb could not hear every word.
But he heard enough.
"You signed."
"I didn't."
"You took the money."
"My husband took your money."
"The debt stays with the family."
Then Grace saw Caleb outside.
She screamed at him to run.
Robert turned.
Caleb ran toward the barn.
He hid there for almost an hour.
When he returned, Robert's truck was gone.
The kitchen door was open.
Grace lay on the floor.
Emma was crying upstairs.
Caleb entered the house.
He touched Grace's shoulder.
She did not respond.
There was blood near her head.
"I wanted to call 911," Caleb told James.
"Why didn't you?"
Caleb looked ashamed.
"Robert came back."
James stared at him.
"When?"
"Maybe twenty minutes later."
"What did you do?"
"I hid upstairs."
"In the attic?"
Caleb nodded.
"He walked through the whole house."
"Did he see Grace?"
"Yes."
"What did he do?"
Caleb's face tightened.
"He moved her hand."
James leaned closer.
"He moved her hand?"
"Near the coffee cup."
Ryan and James exchanged a look.
"What else?"
"He put something beside her."
"The note?"
Caleb nodded.
"I couldn't see what it was."
"Did he check on the children?"
"Yes."
Caleb wiped his face.
"He went into the babies' room."
James felt his jaw tighten.
"What did he do?"
"I heard him say something."
"What?"
Caleb's voice became almost inaudible.
"He said, 'You two weren't supposed to be here.'"
At the hospital, Sarah stood inside the neonatal intensive-care unit beside two heated bassinets.
Noah's oxygen numbers were improving.
Ellie's were not.
Dr. Carter adjusted a medication line.
"Come on, little one."
Sarah looked through the glass.
Emma sat outside with a child-services worker.
"How bad?"
Michael checked the monitor.
"The sedative slowed Ellie's breathing long enough that aspiration may have started pneumonia."
"Will she survive?"
"I think so."
"You think?"
"It's the most responsible answer I can give you."
Sarah folded her arms.
"Police found the mother dead."
Michael looked up.
Sarah continued.
"They're treating it as homicide."
"Does Emma know?"
"Not yet."
"She needs to."
"I know."
Michael looked at the babies.
"If Robert drugged them, he was willing to kill infants."
Sarah looked back through the glass.
"And Emma walked twenty miles with them."
"No seven-year-old does that unless home was more frightening than the road."
Twenty minutes later, Detective Lisa Grant arrived from the county homicide unit.
She met James beside the kitchen table.
The note had been bagged.
The hidden camera had been removed.
"Let's see the recording," Lisa said.
A technician connected the camera memory card to a laptop.
There were fourteen clips.
Motion activated.
The first showed Grace feeding the twins.
The second showed Emma drawing at the table.
The third showed Grace locking the back door twice.
The fourth showed Robert entering.
There was no audio.
Grace stepped backward when she saw him.
Robert pointed toward the babies.
Grace shook her head.
They argued.
Robert grabbed her wrist.
Grace pulled away.
Emma appeared at the hallway entrance.
Grace immediately pushed her daughter behind her.
Robert took an envelope from his coat.
He threw it onto the table.
Grace opened it.
Whatever she saw made her terrified.
Then Robert stepped closer.
Grace slapped him.
The footage skipped.
Motion resumed eleven minutes later.
Grace lay on the floor.
Robert stood over her.
He knelt.
Pressed two fingers to her neck.
Then looked directly at the camera.
James leaned forward.
"He sees it."
Robert walked toward the lens.
The screen went dark.
"That's it?" Lisa asked.
The technician shook his head.
"There are more files."
The next clip began forty minutes later.
Robert returned.
He wore gloves now.
He moved Grace's coffee mug.
Placed the folded note beside her.
Then walked toward the refrigerator.
Again the camera cut.
Ryan pointed.
"He removed it."
"No," the technician said. "He tried."
The final clip had been recorded from the floor.
The camera had fallen sideways.
Half the room was visible.
Robert's boots crossed the frame.
Then another person entered.
Everyone in the room went quiet.
A man wearing a dark suit.
Older.
Silver hair.
Robert appeared to argue with him.
The suited man handed Robert something.
Money.
Then Robert said something the camera microphone barely captured.
The technician increased the audio.
Static filled the room.
Then Robert's voice emerged.
"Three children. One survivor. That's the deal."
James felt sick.
Lisa replayed it.
"Three children. One survivor."
Then the other man spoke.
"The girl wasn't part of the agreement."
The clip ended.
Lisa looked toward James.
"So Robert wasn't working alone."
A technician entered the kitchen carrying another evidence bag.
"We found this beneath the mattress in the mother's room."
Inside was a photograph.
Grace stood beside a man James recognized as her late husband, Daniel Miller.
Between them stood Robert.
And beside Robert stood the silver-haired man from the recording.
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On the back, somebody had written one sentence.
HOLLOW CREEK FAMILY PROGRAM – CLASS 12.
