Chapter 7 - What Was in Her Blood)
Dr. Patel told Kristin not to take anything from the bottle.
She sealed it inside a plastic bag and gave it to Detective Park. The detective sent the tablets for testing, but warned that results could take days. There were no fingerprints visible on the copied note and no camera covering the bathroom hall.
"Change the locks today," Park said. "Every exterior door."
Ethan called a locksmith from the clinic parking lot. He also changed the alarm code and removed Georgia from the emergency contact list.
These actions should have made Kristin feel safer. Instead, they confirmed that danger had entered the ordinary machinery of their life. Vitamins, tea, family photographs, a spare key. Nothing looked harmless anymore.
Dr. Patel ordered blood work because of Kristin's fainting episode and continuing weakness. The results returned the following morning.
"There was a sedative in your system," the doctor said. "A low amount, but enough to make you drowsy and disoriented. It is not something I prescribed, and it should not be mixed with pregnancy without medical supervision."
Ethan's hand closed around the arm of his chair.
"Could it hurt the baby?"
"The heartbeat is strong, and the examination is reassuring. At the level we found, lasting harm is unlikely. But exposure must stop."
Kristin felt relief so intense that it made her dizzy.
"Can you tell when I took it?"
"Not precisely. Based on the level, likely within the past few days."
The tea had been more than a week earlier.
Someone had continued dosing her after Georgia left the house.
Ethan looked at Kristin. "The vitamins."
"I only took them twice from that bottle."
"That could be enough," Dr. Patel said. "The laboratory will need to test the tablets."
Detective Park upgraded the case from suspicious circumstances to an active poisoning investigation. She interviewed Georgia at her condominium. Georgia denied altering the vitamins and voluntarily provided a set of keys, none of which fit the new locks.
"She says you have become paranoid," Park told Kristin by phone. "She claims you have a history of anxiety and that you may be medicating yourself."
"I don't."
"I know what your medical records show. I am telling you what she is saying."
Georgia also produced a handwritten journal she claimed to have found beneath Kristin's mattress. Several pages described fear of motherhood, resentment toward Ethan, and a desire to disappear.
Kristin had never seen it.
The handwriting resembled hers.
"She planned this," Kristin said. "She came into our home planning to make me look unstable."
"Possibly," Park said. "We are sending the journal for examination."
That evening, Ethan installed cameras at the front door, back door, driveway, and shed. He mounted each one himself and routed the wires through protective conduit.
"No blind spots," he said.
Kristin stood beneath the porch roof, watching him aim the final camera toward the yard. The sky was the color of slate. A line of summer storms had formed over the mountains, though the forecast predicted they would not reach Sun Valley for several days.
"I don't want fear to become our whole life," she said.
Ethan climbed down the ladder. "It won't."
"You can't promise that."
"No. But I can promise I won't dismiss you again."
He took her hands. "I wanted the simplest explanation because it hurt less. That left you alone when you needed me. I'm sorry."
Kristin leaned into him. Through his shirt, she could hear his heart.
"I don't need you to choose between us," she said. "I need you to choose what is true."
"I am."
For two days, nothing happened.
The tests identified the pale yellow tablets as ordinary vitamins coated with a trace amount of the same sedative found in Kristin's blood. The coating appeared homemade. The investigators found Georgia's fingerprints on the bottle, but that proved only that she had handled it while living in the house.
Martin Vale was more difficult to locate. He had surrendered his medical license in 2004 after multiple record violations. His listed address was vacant, his telephone disconnected. Evergreen Maternity Home had closed after a fire destroyed part of the building and most of its files.
Park found one useful record: a birth register showing that Rachel Cole had been admitted on October 19, 1999.
No discharge date appeared beside her name.
Late on the third night, the shed camera sent a motion alert to Ethan's phone.
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The video showed a tall figure in a hooded rain jacket emerging from the drainage path. He opened the rear shed door with a key.
Thirty seconds later, Georgia followed him inside.
